“Bobby, supper is ready! Come on down!”
“Mother, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“It’s getting cold, son!”
“I said I will be there, Mother!”
“It’s about time you arrived. What were you doing anyway?”
“Mother, everything finally clicked. I learned how to achieve neuropsychodynamic mass-energy oscillatory equilibrium.”
“Bobby, I told you to cut out that kind of talking! It’s a waste of time for you and your family!”
“But Father, I finally came to the realization that—”
“No! Not another word, son. Now eat with your family.”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ANDREW RUTANO
Robert’s men opened the door. Andrew’s arms had been restrained. An MRI-looking machine appeared. They placed Andrew on a patient table. A gray plastic belt went over Andrew’s waist. He couldn’t move. Robert and his men left the room. Andrew’s heart level instinctively rose. Two poles with plastic ovals at the ends of them propelled out of the sides of the patient table and approached Andrew’s head. Each pole sandwiched Andrew’s head into place. A small hatch on the right side of the patient table opened like an automatic sliding door. Immediately, wires with tools connecting to them sprung free, resembling the tools a dentist would use. A saw disk tool jolted forward, almost making contact with Andrew’s face. The disk began to spin, turning itself into a blade of hell. Andrew began to scream. The blade revolved forward towards Andrew’s head. Andrew couldn’t fidget away. The blade made contact with his hair first. As Andrew received a haircut, the blade penetrated his scalp. The blade penetrated his cranium next. Blood poured into Andrew’s right ear. Andrew’s shouts wouldn’t stop the blade. The blade finally finished Andrew’s craniumcut.
Andrew’s temporal lobe could be seen, along with all the blood. The saw disk stopped spinning and retracted back into its hatch. Andrew’s screams could finally be heard. A cable arm came out of the hatch. It held a black circular piece, the size of Andrew’s craniumcut. Colorless hairs were attached under the surface of the circle. On top of the circle were numerous tiny holes with symbols under each hole. These colorless hairs were artificial nerves. The circular piece advanced towards Andrew’s cut area. The artificial nerves connected to Andrew’s temporal lobe. Andrew felt no sensation from this connection. The circular piece fit perfectly with Andrew’s cut. Another tool looking like the tip of a glue stick appeared, and a thermo-silicon adhesive was dispensed around the cut to seal the Hub to his skull and skin. The pouring blood from Andrew’s cranium had lessened. All the tools retracted into the hatch. The hatch closed. Andrew was drenched in blood. And in pain.
Robert and his men entered the room. He said, “Say hello to your Hub.”
THREE WEEKS LATER
Trapped. Knees crouched, Andrew’s body was strapped to a chair. A screen was strapped to his head. Screen directly in view of his face, Andrew squinted his eyes.
Andrew sighed. His left leg went numb on him.
The screen read, “Left leg disabled.”
Occasionally, the torture device, called the Motoneuronal Occluder, would disable motor movement to limbs to help remove muscle memory and stop motor functions.
His father, Robert Rutano, had usurped the authoritative rule through a mastery of deception. He had destroyed a world in order to create a world. Faking Earth’s natural demise by labeling it as a “geothermal energy crisis,” Robert had intentionally created an energy converter that would destroy the world as a ploy for people to enter his Spirit World. Andrew was caged, along with all the other pre-registered guests.
Andrew exhaled.
Robert controlled Nirvana 74 with his Sentinel and the Myriad. The Myriad were originally led by General Wayne until he passed away. The Sentinel wore white suits of armor with orange helmets. The Myriad wore black suits of armor with green helmets. Harriet, Kevin, Marco, Rufus, and Andrew’s children had been separated for the past three months as well as the other 10,000 other guests. Robert had installed Hubs for every person in the prison. Five centimeters deep into the head, the Hub acquired a diameter of three inches. The circle relayed tiny knobs for all kinds of neuro-converters. These knobs were only twistable if a key was inserted. Each key was thin as a paperclip but firm as steel. Of course, Robert owned all these keys, and each key represented a different neuro-converter. When the key was inserted, an artificial neural fiber from the Hub would attach itself to a specific part of the brain. The Hub would send its electrochemical messages to the specific brain region.
Andrew missed his family. He didn’t know if this emotional transgression was artificial or not. Yet Andrew did not care. He had already succumbed to three months of agony and torture. Every emotional center of his brain felt deteriorated.
Andrew was calm compared to the other captured guests. If anyone rebelled with too much hostility, their consciousness would either become tabula-rasa’d, or they would be thrown into the Neural Freezer.
A moral currency called “Dopamine Coins” spurted people’s dopamine levels when they behaved under Robert's authority. With their Hubs, prisoners could give and take dopamine through a cable called the Dopamine Coin Transferer, which would allow up to 1,000 coins to be deposited or withdrawn in the span of a day. The Transferer could connect to the Dopamine Withdrawer where dopamine could be taken. The Transferer could also connect to the Dopamine Depositor where dopamine could be deposited. The Dopamine Coin Transferer, Withdrawer, and Depositor were all aligned on the upper rim of the Hub’s circular shape. The number of coins in small text read next to these three holes. When one acted with obedience, their neurotransmitters were rewarded with a sweet dopamine high. Bragging about neural wealth became a competition. This competition transitioned into an imperfect social hierarchy. People with the lowest neural wealth were left to finish the dirty work while the neural wealthy could get away with delegating their work to the lower class. People with the lack of dopamine tended to submit to others' work. Argumentation against delegating did not cross the minds of the depleted. While doing someone's work was a sign of obedience, the neural unwealthy tended to do their jobs poorly due to their exhaustive and uncommitted nature. Therefore, the neural wealthy became more wealthy when they delegated their jobs to the neural unwealthy. If any problems were to come up from the neural wealthy’s duties, they would argue that the job they originally were signed up for was given to the neural unwealthy. Andrew was in the middle of this hierarchy. He had obtained a total of 1,032 dopamine coins. There were some people who had as low as -12,573 dopamine coins. The dopamine levels for these people were so low that they wouldn’t even have the motivation to stand up.
Andrew finally heard footsteps. The Spirit Emissary was removed from Andrew’s face, and one of Robert’s men unstrapped him from the chair. Andrew’s line of sight stayed parallel. The man said, “Inmate #0001. Round 91 complete.” The number #0001 was marked on the top of his Hub circle. Everyone’s Hubs were labeled as well. Barnett unlocked the restraints of the chair. “Time to move #0001.” Barnett unlocked the restraints of the chair. “Time to move #0001.”
Andrew attempted to stand up but couldn’t. His motor nerves were uncoordinated. Wrapping his arm around Andrew’s waist, Barnett helped walk Andrew out of the room. Andrew had been so used to staring at a screen that his vision stared blankly at the same spot.
“Can you stand?” Barnett asked.
“Yeah.”
Unwrapping his arm, Barnett handcuffed Andrew’s wrists and ankles. “Please, follow me.”
Andrew’s feeble legs started to receive some physical memory as he walked. Leaving the Occluder room, Barnett opened the door and the jail lobby appeared. The entrance of the jail could be seen too. A road and alleyway stood just outside the entrance. The majority of the trees around the Allure flower had been extremely cut down. A small haven of buildings existed. He saw animate plants. Wearing neon vests and helmets like construction workers, they appeared to be building something. He couldn’t tell what they were building. Taking a right and another right, they followed a long hallway until they reached a door. They arrived in a new complex. Dusty gray jail cells ran up the stories. Ten stories tall, each row attained a hundred cells. Andrew’s cell was Floor 1 Cell 1.
Entering his cell, he stared into the four walls of boredom. Barnett locked his cell and left. Tired mechanically from the Motoneuronal Occluder, Andrew jumped on his stiff mattress.
Night p.m., Andrew closed his eyes. His circadian rhythm did the rest. He fell asleep.
Day a.m., the prison intercom’s noise woke him up. Swallowing the aftertaste of his nighttime drool, his gullet leaned back. His back leaned back. Aiming his eyes on the floor, he was welcomed by the daily breakfast. The tray held a plate of french toast and gooey scrambled eggs. Andrew despised everything about the jail except the breakfast-in-bed luxury. Reaching for his food, the tray slid away. Barnett had clung onto the tray. Andrew froze.
“Where’s my ‘thank you’?” Barnett asked.
“Huh?”
“You forgot to thank me.”
“For what?”
Barnett moved the tray farther away. “Your meal.”
Andrew mentally sighed. It was the chefs that cooked the meals, not Barnett. Barnett was simply the food courier. “Thank you.”
“You always thank someone before a deed is done. It’s not the result that matters. It’s the intention.” He grabbed the tray tighter and threw it far away behind him. The toast and eggs splattered, and so did Andrew’s patience. Barnett smirked and kicked the tray further.
Andrew yelled, “What is that even supposed to mean?!”
The guard said nothing and left. Andrew tensed both arms and punched the concrete floor, not leaving any indentation. He lay in bed breakfast-less.
Stomach churning, Andrew heard a message from the prison’s intercom system. The message said, “Rotate.” The cell doors opened. Guards from all corners constantly yelled at people to exit their cells. Andrew stayed in his bed. He wouldn’t move.
Several seconds passed until a guard spotted Andrew still in his bed. “Get outta yuh cell!” the guard yelled. He darted towards Andrew’s position and flipped the mattress upside-down atop Andrew. Andrew’s adenosine uplifted. He left the room smoothly and quickly. As he walked away from the cell, the guard followed him closely. They reached the prison lobby until they entered the main outside area. Andrew breathed in the manure field. Nothing but manure and sodden benches sat on the manure. A 10-foot tall fence with an electric fence at the top of it surrounded the field. Andrew’s olfaction was obliterated to shit. The smell couldn’t be contained in a vacuum.
It was their daily outside break. The outside breaks were scattered into five time sessions. Each session contained 2,000 humans with a number of 400 guards patrolling them. The inmates all wore white garments. Seasons never existed on Nirvana 74. The weather was always humid and sunny. Sunny from the desolate star that stood millions of miles away. Ranging from A-E, the rotating session letter for Andrew was “A.”
Andrew and the guard finally reached the public vicinity of all the prisoners. The outside time per session was 30 minutes. The guard held on Andrew’s shoulder and pushed him into the crowd. The guard then vanished. Lost in the summation of people, Andrew walked aimlessly around others. The faces of those around him were broken. Faces of defeat and hopelessness swept across each person. Andrew wore this face too. Lightly shoving others and stepping over the barren white shoes of others, he got caught in something. A hand was holding onto the back of his tarnished white shirt. He reacted slowly. Turning behind, Andrew saw a face that appeared so dead and depressed that the devil himself would have been terrified. The eyes of this man contained bags underneath bags. Darkness reflected off his retinas.
The man screamed, “Lend me some Dopamine Coins! Please!” He tightened the threads of the shirt. “Come on, man! I’ve got like -3,000 coins and need some grain of pleasure!” Andrew kept silent and stared into him with wide eyes.
Another man with a more brightened face removed the hand from Andrew's shirt. The man with the dark retinas was punched in the face. “When will you learn to behave, you neuro-degenerate?!” the brightened man yelled. Now eyes on Andrew, the man said, “Name’s Julius.” Andrew didn’t look at the man and left.
Andrew kept walking around others. As he glided over his next step, he saw Julius in front of his way. Julius said, “You aren’t gonna thank me?” Andrew impatiently scratched his hair.
“Thank you,” Andrew said. He made the motion for his next step but Julius still blocked him off.
“You aren’t curious about what just happened?” Andrew stared into the ground. “What you just witnessed was a depraved man. He was really out of it, wasn’t he? No hope or happiness in his soul. A psychologically dead person. A mistake in space-time. A lost soul. Imagine what it feels like to have negative Dopamine Coins. I’m just glad I wasn’t him.” Julius gulped in air and a bit of saliva. “So . . . you aren’t curious about how many Dopamine Coins I acquire?”
“Huh?”
“Make a guess.”
Andrew coughed. “I don’t know. How much?”
“8,032 Coins. And you know how I earned it? By having suckers do all my work. Dull-minded peeps submit to others’ work. Imagine how weak-minded you have to be to not take advantage of the system. Men like him are hopeless and indifferent to facing death.” Andrew’s anger scorched as his cephalic and basilic veins popped out of his wrists. “I’d be surprised if--”
Andrew lifted his arm in the motion for a punch. Before he could make contact with Julius, he was pulled away. The face of Kevin appeared. Andrew finished the punching motion in thin air. “Kevin! What are you doing!?” Kevin pulled him farther along.
“I’m saving your life like you saved mine,” Kevin said. “It was about time I found you. What the fuck were you trying to do?”
“He’s a piece of shit. That’s all there’s to it.”
Andrew struggled against Kevin’s grasp. Biting Kevin’s pinkie, Andrew escaped his grab. Using all his mechanical energy into his legs, he bolted back to Julius. People in the crowd glared at him as Andrew made distance. Julius’s body was in view, facing backwards. Andrew pulmonated his neck veins. Bending down, he picked up manure from the floor and placed it on his right palm. He tapped Julius’s shoulder. Expecting Julius to turn around, Andrew saw Julius’s right leg had risen at a 90-degree angle. Reversing the leg’s motion, Julius kicked Andrew in the groin with his heel at an obtuse angle. Andrew fell to the ground. Suffocating over pain, Andrew dropped the manure. Two other men approached Andrew’s lying body. Julius gave a hard kick to Andrew’s stomach. “So . . .” he said. “How’s that punch of yours coming along?” Picking up manure, he threw it at Andrew’s eyes. Andrew twitched and closed his eyes. “How is that sneak attack of yours going?” The two men who had approached Andrew kicked him in the gut multiple times. Andrew’s upper ribs lodged out of place. The kicking continued. Bodily fluids like blood, sweat, tears, and mucus mixed around Andrew’s lips and nostrils. Andrew did not scream in pain as it was too difficult to breathe. His internal organs wobbled out of place as the kicking ensued.
Andrew flickered his eyes back open as his eyelashes tossed out particles of manure. Kevin’s presence culminated down the manure horizon. Sprinting towards Andrew’s field of view, Kevin landed a punch on Julius. Julius fell to the floor. The two other men threw punches but missed. Kevin’s agility outmatched them, and he landed two more punches on both men. Their bodies dropped next to Andrew’s eyes.
Andrew quietly said, “Don’t watch me fail.” Kevin didn’t hear him.
A huddle of five people a few meters away began pushing through the crowd. Angered expressions painted their faces. Kevin said, “Get up.”
Andrew lay, legs muscles barely twitching.
“Get up, again.”
He lay.
Grabbing his right palm, Kevin hoisted Andrew up. “Wake up,” he said. “Mentally and physically.” Andrew’s eyes flared up. The huddle made it to their proximity.
Andrew muttered, “What do we do?”
Thinking Kevin would say to fight, Andrew was pulled by Kevin. “We run!” Kevin and Andrew dissolved in the crowd.
“How was school, Bobby?”
“Good, Mother.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Come on, give your mother a hug.”
“...”
***
“Father, guess what?”
“Not now, Son.”
“I earned first place in the New York Associative Press for Science Scholars Competition!”
“...”
“And I’m also thinking of starting my own startup company. It’s gonna be something big, and I already know--”
“Get out of my bedroom, Bobby!”
“I think we lost them,” Kevin said. “What’s wrong with you man? Why you starting fights with people?”
Andrew and Kevin were now out of harm’s way of the angered huddle. It was pretty easy to mix in with the batch of 2,000 humans. Except that it wasn’t just 2,000 humans, it was 2,000 human inmates plus 500 animate plants. Prisoners were both animate plants and humans. Andrew had never noticed the animate plants’ presence since he had been too cognitively drained. It wasn’t the native plants from the physical planet of Nirvana 74. It was the english-speaking animate plants that came from the virtual dimension of the Spirit World.
Andrew’s jaw was cracked out of place by a few centimeters. He said, “By this point, I don’t know. I can’t even tell what’s right from wrong.” As they walked, he smeared away the remaining manure from his face. “So yeah . . . as you said, something is wrong with me.” He slowly 360’d his neck around to gaze upon his surroundings. “I could care less.”
There were less bodies surrounding Andrew and Kevin now. “Okay, I think I see them now,” Kevin said. “Hurry up.”
“Who?”
“The same people we’ve always been seeing the past three months.” Kevin sighed and strutted along quicker.
Rufus and Shruburb stood next to the fence of the manure field, waiting for Kevin and Andrew to come into contact. They wore white uniforms as well, yet they appeared dirty from the manure.
Andrew’s legs were giving up on him. The Motoneuronal Occluder and the beatings encumbered him. In speaking range, Andrew yelled, “Hey! You two walk to us.” Andrew laid down and flailed his arms to the floor. The terrain below him felt separated from his environment. His body felt separated. Moisture exited his mouth as his tongue tasted the manure dust of his recent fall.
Shruburb laid eyes on Andrew. “Goodness! Son of Nature, are you okay?!” He rapidly departed from the end of the fence to Andrew’s shoulder. Rufus slowly followed.
Andrew coughed. “No, I’m not fine, Shruburb. Also, I told you to quit calling me that.”
“Here,” Shruburb began. “Let me wipe off the excess manure from your body.” He laid a wooden finger on Andrew's forehead.
“No!” Andrew hit his hand away. “I’m sick of people laying their hands on me. And another thing. Why is there so much manure everywhere?!”
“Don’t you remember? Our planet used to harvest offspring in our manure. Children of Allure were born from the very dirt Esse conjured up.” Shruburb stood back up. “Anyway . . . Andrew, try to lighten up.” He put his venus-flytrap nectar glands up to Andrew’s ear. “We still have to find a way to escape from here.”
Andrew lightly pushed back Shruburb. “I don’t care.”
Shruburb raised his wooden eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean? Don’t you wish to leave this place?”
Andrew tilted forward. “I’m numb. And to be honest, I gave up trying three weeks ago. If there’s anything I’ve learned from this place, it’s that any stand for justice leaves that person tortured or beaten to a pulp like me.” Andrew rested his head back down.
Now in speaking distance, Rufus said, “Andrew. This place sucks. I think all of us agree in some shape or form with you. And yes, the constituents of Dopamine coins are messed up too. It’s just the harsh reality of this place. But there are much more important things to focus on right now.”
Irritated with constantly having to respond to others, Andrew said, “Like what? Escaping? That’s a load of bullshit.” His voice lifted. “Whether we escape or not, it doesn’t create any difference. We’re all physically and mentally drained that we’d achieve nothing outside these fences.” He jammed his hands in the manure. “Why do you think I gave up? Because our fate has already been determined by my father. So, therefore, I submit!” He flung manure bits into the air. “Now, I’m done with talking. It takes too much energy.”
Shruburb said, “Andrew . . . can’t you see this is what your father wants you to think? His main goal is to emotionally tire everyone until they submit so that any sort of rebellion can be suppressed. Don’t give up on--”
“Well, in that case, he’s won,” Andrew spat out.
A brief period of silence filled their conversation.
Kevin crouched next to Andrew. “You know . . . Andrew . . . in psychology there’s a term somewhere in the lexicon called external locus of control. This basically means that the person resides on the idea that their surroundings and other people control their fate. But in my terms, this just means being a pussy. Andrew, you are a pussy.” Andrew looked at his fingernails. “You may have accepted your pussyness a long time ago, but don’t drag others down with you. The rest of us are gonna find a way to escape whether it’s with or without you.” No reaction came out of Andrew.
Rufus said, “Andrew, don’t you care about your family too? If you’re not gonna help yourself, at least help your family for Christ's sake.”
“You guys are wasting your time,” Andrew sighed. He rested his head on the right side of his face. He saw two pairs of barren shoes.
“Wasting your time on what?” a voice above him proclaimed.
Andrew’s body jittered, sending an aftershock to Kevin, Rufus, and Shruburb.
Immediately, Kevin said, “Who the hell are you? Get out of here.”
The man standing closer to Andrew’s head acquired poor posture and wore blonde hair. Looking young-aged, he said, “No, no, no, no, no. I don’t mean to scare you guys. It’s just that me and my wife couldn’t help but hear your interest in escaping this prison. We didn’t mean to come off as harmful in any way.”
Andrew tumbled around in the manure and stood up. Shruburb said, “Hey, no worries. We were just saying that--”
“We were just saying that you guys should leave,” Kevin said.
“Hey, Kevin, come on,” Andrew cut in. “These people don’t come off as bad.”
“Since when did you start feeling like talking again?” Kevin said, “A moment ago you were in despair. . .”
Rufus said, “Anyway . . . what are you two’s names?”
The man said, “Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I’m Alonzo, and this is my wife Natasha. We’ve been searching for a way to escape this hell ever since we were zapped into this dimension. Three months later, I’m still surprised I’m alive in this dump alongside my wife.”
Shruburb said, “It’s awfully depressing the conditions we’ve been under. You guys are more than welcome to help us find an end to this imprisonment.”
“I don’t know,” Kevin said. He held his fingers under his chin. “Not trying to be rude or anything, it’s just that we don’t know you two. We also don’t know what you’ve been through or where you came from, so, therefore, our bond of trust remains unknown.”
The wife of Alonzo said, “We totally understand the pre-conceived notions you guys must hold for outsiders, and this may sound clichè, but you have to trust us. Our desire to escape is equivocal or even more than your guys’.”
Alonzo stepped forward. “I don’t know what it takes to convince the four of you, but I’ll share some horrendous experiences of ours. Around last week my mother was sent to the Neural Freezer. She’d been complaining to a guard about her lack of food and how she felt really sick. Being the shitty person he was, the guard decided he wasn’t gonna tolerate her anymore, and he threw her into the freezer. My mother was stuck in that asylum for three days straight!” Alonzo convulsed his risorius muscles near his mouth. Tears began to stream down his cheekbones.
“Her brain had been frozen for so long that she couldn’t drink or eat anything until she died from dehydration! That son of a bitch forgot about her! She didn’t get to enjoy or experience the final moments of her life. She was just an unconscious meat bag.” He flicked the tears off his face. “I hope you can see our true hatred for Robert and his men. There’s only a matter of time before he kills us all.”
Andrew empathized with the guy. He shared Alonzo’s anger and frustration. This empathic energy gave him motivation. Numbness evaporated into feelings. “We’ll help you escape,” Andrew said. “I don’t care if my friends are against the idea. If they are, I’m helping you escape outta here by myself.”
“And to think that you didn’t want to escape a few moments ago,” Rufus said. “Rightfully so, I am completely on board.”
Shruburb said, “I am as well.”
All eyes glanced on Kevin. “I’m sorry for what you two have been through. And yes, you can help us. We could always bring more people on board with our escaping pilgrimage, but it’s the strategy and plan that we gravely need. We can’t just--”
Kevin’s voice was interrupted by the prison intercom. The intercom said, “Good evening. Would all humans please line up by the gate? Single file by inmate number.”
Waddling like penguins, people slowly made their way to the gate. The neural wealthy walked quicker. Animate plants, stagnant as a lake, stood. The watchtowers that stood around the fences had guards rappelling down to escort the prisoners in the manure.
Andrew was caught off guard. “Wait . . . what’s happening right now? We never usually line up. And why’d they say only humans?”
Shruburb said, “Something most likely not good.”
“We’ll hear about your plan later, Alonzo,” Kevin said. “I guess our thirty minutes came to an end sooner than we presumed.” Alonzo and his wife nodded.
A pack of guards approached Andrew and his friends. Andrew saw that the guards had physical attachments to their Hubs. Different-looking pieces stuck on the Hub, but they moved so quickly that Andrew couldn't piece together the exact designs. Small faint lights lit up in small time intervals. The guards carried guns, including rifles, shotguns, and pistols. They aimed at the inmates. They repeatedly shouted, “Single file! Single File! Single File!” The guards had small blue and red pipes that started towards their heart region and ended at their Hub. The pipes, measuring one inch in diameter, were connected to their armor, and they ran horizontally across the chest, up the collar bone, up the neck, and up the cheekbone until the pipes reached the right side of their head. The blue and red pipes ran parallel with each other.
Andrew was separated from his friends. A gun poked at his back, signaling him to move forward. Andrew heard Kevin yell, “Where are you guys taking us?!” Meanwhile, Shruburb stood alone. And Rufus was behind Andrew’s guard a few feet away. Andrew and the guard walked a good amount of steps. He lost sight of Alonzo and Natasha. He needed to hear their plan.
Andrew finally came closer to the proximity of the larger crowd of people. Footsteps became louder. “What’s the purpose of lining us up?” someone asked.
More people began to speak at once.
“Is this an execution line?!”
“Get away from us you mindless soldiers!”
“I don’t wanna die!”
“What’s happening to us!”
The original huddle of five that Andrew ran from was in view. One of them held manure. Another had a guard in a chokehold. The guards, however, didn’t shoot them. Manure was hurled at the guard who was in a chokehold. Running from the distance, a guard holding a taser tackled the manure thrower and zapped his Hub with the taser. The man fell unconscious. The guard stomped on the chokeholder and zapped his Hub too. The other three from the huddle backed away with faces of terror. The guard yelled, “Who else wants to be neurochemically zapped?! This is worse than the Neural Freezer!” ”
Any sort of rebellion lessened and so did the noise. People grew silent as petrification overruled revolution. Assembling more into the shape of a line, the prisoners didn’t speak another single word. They were only single in file.
The guard, behind Andrew, said, “Inmate #001, you’re first in line. Hurry up.” He compressed the pointed gun harder against Andrew’s spine. After demonstrating all his motor movement, Andrew was right in front of the gate with thousands behind him. The line was not completely formed or straight.
The prison intercom went off. “Anyone who does not situate in their Hub number in line from #0001 to #2000 in the next thirty seconds will be dead. Any sort of rebellion will not be permitted.” The intercom went off. So did their spirits.
People started pushing each other. Chaos emerged. The animate plants in the background still remained still. As each second passed, people read each other’s inmate numbers to each other. A number of 2,000 people was so large that Andrew couldn't comprehend how many people were moving at once. Someone tapped Andrew’s back intermittently. Sweat poured down this man’s face. He said, “Sir! What number does it say on my Hub?! I forgot my number!” Andrew read the number from his Hub. He instantly regretted it. The number read #1909. He didn’t want to tell the poor soul.
“You’re #1909 . . .” Andrew said. “I’m so sorry.” All the energy in inmate #1909 dropped. All of his nervous energy decimated into his upcoming fate.
The prison intercom said, “Time’s up! Everyone, please wait in line until further instruction.”
IInmate #1909 let off a crooked smile. Andrew empathized with the guy. #1909 immediately stepped behind Andrew. He whispered in his ear, “Just pretend that I’m behind you, okay?” Inmate #0002 was slightly pushed back from Inmate #1909 unintentionally.
#0002 was a six-foot dude with ripped biceps. He said, “Hey, man! Whatchu doin’?! Get out of my spot!” He pushed #1909 to the side. #1909 lay on the manure in front of all the guards.
The nearest guard said, “Hey, #1909. You should’ve listened to the intercom.” The guard pointed his gun.
#1909 catapulted himself onto #0002 and choked him. #1909 screamed, “I hope you burn in hell!” #0002, struggling for air, punched #1909 in the gut. Retaining his air back, #0002 tackled #1909 to the ground. Tossing and turning in a brawl, both of them fought to the death. However, there was no victor. The nearest guard shot one bullet, collaterally puncturing both of their heads. They both died. Some inmates in the line screamed from this sight. Gunshots farther down the line went off simultaneously. Andrew’s mind couldn’t keep up with everything. Down the line, dead bodies tallied somewhere in the fifties. He was disturbed tremendously. He was angry at #0002 for revealing #1909 like that to the guards. He was angry at the guards for killing #0002 and #1909. He was angered by his father. Robert had created this hell.
Andrew’s attempt to process everything cognitively was disrupted by the loud screech of the gate’s opening. The prison intercom turned on again. “Anyone who additionally steps out of line physically and metaphorically will be shot in the brain. No words will be spoken.”
Absent of #0002, #1909, and many others, the single file line became a single muscular unit of stiffness. Blood shined off the white clothes of the dead. He picked the skin around his fingernails and shook his legs in anguish. The line was too long to recognize the distant faces of the dead.
The intercom continued its message. “Starting with #0001, please follow the guards ahead and, once again, walk single file. If the line curves, the curve must be tangential. Any overlap in tangent will result in death.”
A guard in front of Andrew screamed. “You heard the intercom!” The guard pulled Andrew by the front of his shirt. “Lead the way!” The guard mustered all of his blood into his palmar arteries and pushed Andrew’s body ahead past the gate. Two watchtowers stood to the left and right of the gate.
The line walked uniformly. The guard released Andrew’s shirt. Andrew reached the lobby doors. As the first person in the line, Andrew determined the curvature of the line and the speed of the line. A guard, looking straight at Andrew, had a finger pointing towards his right. The fingers of the guard’s left hand carried a gun pointing at Andrew’s skull. The guard smiled menacingly. As the first person in line, Andrew determined the curvature of the line and the speed of the line. He needed to make a right to the cafeteria.
As he curved to the right, he looked behind him. People walked like ants. People walked with poise and a compliant posture. He looked ahead. The doors from the original Spirit Intercom complexes looked the same as the prison doors. Andrew walked through the door. Levitating its door hatch, the door bore a hallway that led directly to the cafeteria. As each foot dropped on the granite floor, Andrew felt his movement patterns being traced by the predecessors of the line. He crossed the hallway and entered the spacious cafeteria. Red circular tables and empty trays were scattered across the surface area of the floor. Half-sphere black cameras with moving red dots on them situated in every corner of the cafeteria. But Andrew felt he had entered the same room again. A guard, holding a gun in his left hand, pointed to the right door. This door was the same as the other door. The door opened. Stairs appeared. The stairwell was dark as nightfall. The night fell deeper down the stairs. After stepping down for at least two minutes, the stairs ended. A yellow fence blocked off the hallway from the auditorium. Andrew stopped walking. Another guard waited in front of him too. The size of the auditorium was intimidating. The height of the ceiling climbed almost 100 feet up. The room was an aquarium. An aquaritorium.
The walls were light-reflecting windows. The aquaritorium was submerged in an acidic green lake. Gigantic bubbles magnified some of the green light on the windows. 100 rows descended down to the main stage of the aquaritorium, big enough to fit 10,000 people. 100 people per row. Red curtains outlined the main stage. Each row had a bench and an elongated table that stretched down the row. Blue wires sprouted from the tables. The benches had owned gadgets that stuck atop of the benches. The gadget was a retractable headgear, similar to the device Andrew foresaw when his Hub was implanted. The main stage was empty and so were the rows. Yet they would be filled soon
Two guards split open the yellow fence. #0003 had finally caught up to Andrew. Gunshots echoed down the stairs. Screams and shouts continued down the stairs.
“Stay in the line, fool!” someone said. “Your life depends on it!” Andrew’s heart sank. He worried that he was to blame for the gunfire. He wondered if he had curved too sharply or if he had walked too fast. Bellowing cries screeched out from a woman. The horror was in the fact of not being able to see but only hear. Every shot that went off was a chance of his friends dying. The woman screamed louder. Another gunshot percolated and ended this woman’s scream. A guard shouted, “Shut up! Talking includes screaming!”
A guard, who opened the yellow fence and stood closer to Andrew, said, “Please enter your row number.”
“What row am I?” Andrew asked quietly.
The guard released his hand off the fence and aimed his gun at Andrew. He got up close to Andrew’s ear and whispered, “No talking. I’m letting you off easy here, Mr. Rutano.”
The other guard who had opened the fence pulled out a pistol and shot this guard in the skull. The other guard put away his gun. Blood splattered on Andrew’s hair. Andrew’s eyes burst open. The other guard looked at the corpse. He said, “You disobeyed what the intercom stated, Cormac. The intercom said, ‘Kill them if they speak.’” The guards that surrounded the aquaritorium didn’t react. Andrew couldn’t comprehend what kind of code of conduct these soldiers ran. The guard who spared his life died. Yet the guard who killed the life-saver lived. Andrew’s body began to shake as his sympathetic nervous system retrieved what had occurred. He wanted to crawl up in a ball. He also wanted to punch everyone there. Andrew wasn’t sure if he was guilty of the life-saver’s death. He shed more tears of confusion. The other guard appeared calm. His expression however changed in a split second, and he pushed Andrew ahead down the rows. “You’re in Row 1! I’m keeping you alive for now so that you can digest what you just did to this innocent guard.”
Andrew’s legs could barely walk down the aquaritorium stairs. As he walked, the prison intercom spoke. “Everyone must be in their assigned seat and row. #0001-0100 are Row 1 while #1900-2000 Row 20.” There were 100 rows. Only one-fifth would be filled. “Please comply, and be in your seat within the next thirty seconds. Failure to do so will result in death.” Andrew’s legs started running. His adrenal glands provided enough mechanical energy to his legs to make it to his seat within the appropriate time constraint. He made it down the stairs to his row number. As he ran horizontally down Row 1, he arrived at his seat, which displated the number “#0001” in bold font on the headgear. As he sat on the bench, he saw the line had collapsed. #0003 was the second person to take a seat. People swarmed down the dark stairs. People pushed and shoved each other on the aquaritorium stairs. People tripped. People fell. While chaos ensued, #0003 scooched closer to Andrew. He had a twinkle in his eye and a charismatic face. He said, “These people are animals, amirite?” He let off a grin. “People need to learn to behave and not unleash all of their survival instinct at once. I mean, I guess Robert is testing out terror management theory, so I wouldn’t blame people’s reactions so harshly.”
Andrew gave this man a confused look as blood dripped down his hair and onto his thigh. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Name’s Dotor. I like how you behave, Andrew. You were very polite and civil when the guards were fulfilling their orders.”
“Umm . . . thanks?” Andrew felt every new person he met grew more strange.
The prison intercom said, “10 seconds remain.” The loudness in the aquaritorium escalated. The line had now morphed into a blob. People started throwing hands at each other. No one was safe.
Dotor reclaimed Andrew’s attention back. He said, “You know why the guards aren’t shooting us?”
“...”
“It’s because the prison intercom never stated that the guards had to shoot people if they talked. The intercom only said that guards were to only kill people if they weren’t in their seats. I swear, these guards work like robots.” He chuckled.
The prison intercom said, “Time’s up!”
“To be frank, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were robots under all that armor and gear of theirs,” Dotor finished.
Andrew was too scared to see if everyone was in their seat. He quickly glanced. The rows were not all filled. Around fifty people were still running down the stairs or lying on the floor unconscious due to being trampled. Andrew didn’t want to look anymore, so he locked his eyes onto the ground. He didn’t want to witness another mass killing.
Footsteps echoed from the main stage. A voice said, “Kill them” Guns went off like firecrackers. Cries and bawlings succumbed to the bullets. The bullets finished.“We will wait until Prison Rotations B-E arrive.”
Andrew was traumatized. He didn’t want to look back. He couldn’t. He kept his eyes shut as time passed on. A good five minutes of Andrew’s closed-eye fear meditation passed. The voice said, “Look up, everyone, and witness the mask of human nature.” Andrew slowly lifted his head up. He couldn’t believe his vision. He hadn’t seen this person for three months. It was his father.
“I’m telling you, Bobby, this stuff is revolutionary. Your parents just don’t understand.”
“I know, Howie, but you can clearly see where my frustration lies, right?”
“Yeah, I definitely can. But don’t let it get to you. You are going to help so many people out that your parents’ opinions will remain outta the picture.”
“So you’re on board with me?”
“100%! Let’s go save lives! I’m surprised you haven’t shared this with Professor Aushteiv yet. He’d certainly help you with your mission.”
“I still need to touch up on a few of my calculations.”
“Come on, Bobby, it’s already good enough.”
“Yeah . . . I guess you’re right.”
Robert was a changed man. Not morally but by appearance. He wore a black tie, a white long-sleeve shirt, white dress pants, and black dress shoes. He grew more wrinkles. A device was implanted in his head, but it looked different. It was hard for Andrew to distinguish its shape and form.
“Andrew. It’s so great to see you after what—how long has it been? Three months? Wow. Time really flies.” Robert paused. Andrew couldn't help but look at his father. So many emotions swirled in his mind that he couldn’t remember what a regular emotion felt like. Robert acquired a gentle smile while he spoke. “Well . . . anyway, Andrew. Wanna give your father a hug? Come on, like old times?” Andrew wanted to shout a thousand things at the man but knew he couldn’t. A brief period of silence transposed. “Andrew . . . I’m not going to start until--”
“Why the hell did you gather us here?!” a voice behind Andrew yelled. Andrew looked behind. Rows 1-100 were all filled. Prison Rotations A-E filled up the aquaritorium. He turned back to Robert.
Robert reached for his back pocket, pulled out a gun, aimed it slightly above Andrew’s head, and shot.
As screams escaped, Robert said, “Eager to start, huh? Well then, I guess my hug will have to wait for now.” He put his gun away. “The reason you are gathered here today is because you will be taking a test. A test where you will demonstrate your IQ. Your score will determine your social status. The higher, the better, obviously. Before I go on any further, my Sentinel, please distribute the testing materials that I messaged you all earlier today.” Some of the guards in the perimeter of the aquaritorium began walking up the two flights of stairs. “As they do that, I may as well go over what the test is composed of and how it correlates with my future utopia. Or should I welcome the element of surprise for this test? What do you think, General Wayne?” Footsteps emerged.
General Howard Wayne appeared, head poking out of the main stage curtain. He stepped out on the main stage. Wayne looked slightly confused and disoriented to Andrew. Wayne had a normal Hub. He wore a white shirt, white shorts, and white sandals. No weapons were on him. Wayne said, “Wait . . . where are we again?”
“Answer the question,” Robert said.”
“Answer the question,” Robert said.
“Oh okay. Element of surprise then.”
“You can go back now. Sentinel, escort him.”
“I can walk by myself.” Wayne said. He left the stage.
Two more drops of blood fell on Andrew’s white shirt. Footsteps emerged again. They came down the two flights of stairs.
“Sounds like the testing materials have arrived right on time,” Robert said. Andrew gazed upon the incoming guards. Each of them held a clear plastic bag of earmuffs. 20 guards assembled on each flight of stairs. Two guards per row. “Sentinel, please open the bags and place the earmuffs on each person individually.”
The guards began to walk horizontally on each row, plastic bags in hands. As Andrew was on the left of Row 1, a guard immediately pulled out an earmuff from his bag. He looked at Andrew. The earmuffs were orange. Its design appeared blocky. Getting closer to Andrew, the guard placed the earmuffs on his head briskly. All sound for Andrew became silent. The guard moved on to #0003. The silence scared him. He looked to his right. Dotor sat still as the guard placed his earmuffs. After the guard moved onto the next number, Dotor adjusted his earmuffs and looked at Andrew. He mouthed certain phrases and pointed at his smiling mouth. Andrew let off a fake smile back. Looking forward again, he saw Robert had vanished from the main stage. Andrew waited in confusion. His diaphragm was misaligned as he breathed.
A few seconds had passed. He decided to look around to see how much progress the guards made in handing out the earmuffs. About half of the aquaritorium now wore earmuffs. Something caught his eye off guard. Looking more to his left, he saw a prisoner in Row 13 grasping his right hand very tightly. So tight that his hand reddened, and his arm shook very subtly. The man appeared to be holding a blade. Andrew’s face reddened. The rightmost guard on Row 13 was a seat away from him. The guard finished giving the earmuff and moved to the crazed-looking prisoner. The guard reached for his bag to pull out another earmuff. Before he took it out, the prisoner pulled out his blade and slit the blue and red pipes of the guard. Blood rapidly spewed out of these pipes. The prisoner dug the knife into the guard’s heart. The guard’s face grew expressionless. The earmuff dropped and so did this dead body. The prisoner stood on the bench. The veins in his neck popped out as he screamed out words that weren’t words. Andrew couldn’t hear anything going on though. It was only pure silence.
A guard from Row 12 pulled out a pistol and shot the prisoner. Andrew heard this. The rest of the prisoners were horrified, yet they did not act. Neither did Andrew.
The earmuffs on Andrew were tightly compressed against his head. They were locked in place. A radio chime went off. A voice came out of his earmuffs. It was Robert’s voice. He said, “Please remain in your seats. The man you just witnessed thought he could start a revolution. Yet he miserably failed and so will anyone else. So I’d advise the rest of you to keep calm, and just focus on your test.” The chime turned off.
Andrew couldn’t look away from the bloody pipes. Rivers of blood dripped down the stairs. Andrew waited as the rest of the earmuffs were distributed. A guard from Row 12 walked over the shared pool of blood from the tubeless guard and dead prisoner. More earmuffs were distributed. Andrew turned to his right and saw Dotor. Dotor nodded and smiled infectiously, lifting a thumbs-up. Andrew tapped his feet uneasily. The chime from the earmuffs turned on again. Robert said, “Sentinel, all earmuffs have been administered. Connect the prisoners.”
A thin white wire with a unique-looking plug-end popped out of the tables immediately and synchronously. A six-inch white restraining curved pole wrapped along the prisoners’ torsos. Robert said, “No one can escape this test. My progressive society will work, and you will all be obliged to its working. If you choose to not try or participate in this exam, you will be executed.” Andrew’s amygdala stimulated. Andrew looked up. People above Andrew squirmed in their restraints. “Prisoners from Row 2 through 3, quit moving or we will blast you.” They stopped. “Do I need to repeat, Sentinel? Connect them!” Guards from all corners ran haphazardly. A guard came running down the aquaritorium stairs and stood to the left of Andrew. He dove for the plug and inserted it into Andrew’s Hub. Andrew felt no sensation. Andrew wanted to flinch, but there was no need to. After a few seconds, the plug connected to Andrew’s Hub, making a clicking noise so loud that Andrew heard it through the earmuffs. There still was no sensation from this clicking. “Deploy the test.”
The glass ceiling, which reflected acidic water, opened up slits above each prisoner. Floating water pallets de-escalated from these slits. The water was formed like vertical sheets of paper but a little thicker. The water contained tiny bubbles on the edge of its floating figure. They gently descended. Andrew’s water sheet was the first to present itself at ground level. The water sheet was blank. Robert said, “Begin the test as soon as your water pallet is in reach. Additionally, no cheating is permitted.” White walls rose around Andrew. Five-foot walls enclosed him from the back and the sides. He couldn’t see the prisoners anymore. “I’ve prepared for the worse.” Actions seemed to move quicker than Andrew’s processing speed.
Andrew looked at the clear water sheet. It was blank. So was his knowledge of how to begin the test. Robert said, “Click the water pallet to begin.” Andrew touched it. The point of touch rippled across the sheet. Just like how land could terraform, water changed form. It displayed “Loading” with a spinning wheel. No text was on the water. It was just the water making grooves and changing depth and length in respect to the letter shapes. The message rippled and disappeared. The water sheet resembled the patterns of antique touch-screen phones. Robert said, “This test will measure multiple intelligences based on psychologist Howard Gardner’s principles. The test consists of nine sections: linguistic, logical, mathematical, spatial, body-kinesthetic, music, interpersonal, intrapersonal, and naturalistic intelligence. The first section will appear once all prisoners have booted up their water pallet. The test will be 60 minutes. Select responses by touching the water appropriately.” Andrew waited five seconds. “The test officially begins now. Good luck!” The water sheet rippled with new text. Nine horizontal tabs appeared in vertical fashion ranging from all nine intelligence questions. Andrew tapped on “Linguistic.” Six questions appeared. Andrew chipped away at the test. An example question read, “What’s the phonetic transcription of the word ‘tree’?” After finishing this section relatively quickly, he began the “Logical” section. Andrew was stronger in mathematics and despised every other subject for the most part. A logical question read, “Select the word that best completes the analogy.” Andrew’s gray matter was stimulated. As he guessed on the majority of this section, he moved onto the “Mathematical” section. Questions containing derivatives and exponents filled this section. Each section seemed to be six questions. As he breezed through this section, he encountered the “Spatial” section. The water sheet stretched from its 2D figure to 3D. The 2D screen still stood, but 3D floating water objects protruded out the screen. The figures contained cubes connected with half-spheres. A question read, “Rotate the object to match the 2D figure shown.” Andrew slid his hand through one of the objects. He swished the water to his left. The object rotated according to his motion. Masterfully manipulating the complete figure, he managed to create the same pattern as the 2D figure from the angle of the water sheet. The 3D object turned into a bubble and popped. Andrew breezed through this section as well. He arrived at the “Body-Kinesthetic” section. As he clicked the section tab, a fourth five-foot wall rose in front, enclosing him and the floating water sheet into a roofless room. The water sheet translated 90 degrees and lay like a floating napkin above Andrew’s head. Andrew’s torso belt was unbolted and disappeared. The headgear displaced inside of the bench and disappeared too. A big slit from the aquaritorium ceiling slid open directly above Andrew. A waterfall dropped on Andrew. As water struck the ground, the four walls acted as a pool. The five-foot walls ascended to 20-foot walls. Andrew was now 20 feet underwater. The water sheet managed to delineate itself in the pool of water above Andrew’s head. Andrew struggled to live. The water sheet read, “Swim above for air.” Andrew tossed and turned in the water. Bubbles of his exhalation and acidity meandered around his body. The pH level slightly stung his skin. Flailing his arms and legs, he propelled himself up the water. As he swam up, the Hub wire elongated in relation to his height. After many strides of movement, he gasped for air above the tall pool of water. He looked over the edge of the tall tub. No other tall tubs stood. The water level in Andrew’s pool began to drain. As he descended in the aqueous solution, the floating water sheet followed his head. The draining stopped. The earmuffs and Hub wire still remained intact. The water sheet moved to its original position, relaying the rest of the sectional tabs. Andrew was sick of these tests. Robert said, “30 minutes remain.” Sitting back down, Andrew clicked the “Music” tab. The water sheet transformed into the shape of a 3D drum. The drum gravitated towards Andrew’s lap. The top of the drum read, “Splash the drum rhythmically when the beat from your earmuff presents itself.” A fast-tempo beat began. It contained only horns. Andrew hit the water drum with his hand. He heard a drum noise from his earmuffs. He tried to articulate the drums with the horns the best he could, but he was no musician. Andrew was unsure of how this section would be scored. The tempo grew quicker. Maintaining rhythmic beats grew more difficult. The section ended. The drum transformed back to the water sheet. He clicked the “Naturalistic” section. A tiny rod popped out of the table next to his Hub wire. Seeds were dispensed from the tiny hole of the rod. They lay on the table. 10 brown pots popped out of the table. The modernity of the aquaritorium felt more alive to Andrew when he saw soil. The water sheet read, “These are enhanced growing-speed seeds. You must plant these seeds. Your score will be determined by how many plants still stand upright by the end of the test.” Andrew grabbed one seed and one pot. He covered the seed in soil gently. He repeated. All seeds were planted. He moved to the next section. He began the “Interpersonal” section. The sheet read, “You will talk to one of the guards through your earmuffs. Speak into the mic, the tiny indentation on the left of your earmuffs. Your score will be rated based on your tone, attitude, emotion, dialogue, and facial expression. Choosing to be rude will significantly lower your score.” The water sheet displayed a guard’s face in real-time.
Andrew spoke into the mic. “Hello, can you hear me?”
Andrew heard the earmuffs release an exhalation. The guard said, “Fuck you.”
Andrew was blank. “What?”
“Fuck you!”
Andrew was angered. He wanted to say it back, but he knew this was just a ploy to decrease his score. Andrew said, “How are you, sir?”
The guard said, “I love you. Let’s marry.” The eyes of this guard on the water sheet sparkled since he did not wear his helmet.
“What? Okay . . . then.” Andrew wanted to perform well on the test. Maybe he could be given a less miserable position if he was ranked highly in Robert's utopia.
“Don’t you love me?”
Andrew knew he had to submit to the procedures of the test. “Of course, I do. So . . . how are you doing?
“You’re a piece of shit! I’ll kill your entire family.”
Andrew couldn’t handle this. “Umm . . . what am I supposed to say back here?” Andrew expressed a fake smile and hid his urge to yell.
“Remember the time when your father sent your mother to the Spirit World? Wait . . . you wouldn’t since you never knew about it.” The guard had been smiling the whole time. “How’d that make you feel?”
Andrew was done. He said, “What’s making you say these things?!”
The guard’s face got larger on the water sheet. The water sheet came close to Andrew’s face. The earmuffs grew louder. The guard said, “You’re afraid of intimate relationships. Everyone you ever grew close with cut you off. Like your father, for example. You were afraid to talk to him as a child. You were afraid to be intimate with Harriet. You were afraid to always hug your mother as a child. You are afraid of knowing yourself and--”
Andrew was sweating and his eyebrows bent. “Please stop!”
The guard said, “You have failed this test.” His face disappeared from the water sheet and the rest of the sectional tabs opened up. This felt worse than solitary confinement to Andrew. He grabbed his face and weeped. The chime of his earmuffs chimed. Robert said, “Andrew, my son. If you cry anymore, you will be killed. Same thing goes for the rest of you, inmates!” Andrew sniffed out all his mucus and wanted to die. He clicked the next tab that read “Intrapersonal.” The water sheet loaded until it turned into a blank sheet. There were no directions for this section.
The sheet rippled. Andrew’s face appeared on the water. It was a clone of him in real-time. The clone said, “Do you love me?”
Andrew couldn’t tell if his brain was fooling him or if this was an illusion. He was mentally conflicted.
“Do you love me?” the clone repeated.
Andrew asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m you.”
“Impossible.”
“No. Now answer the question.”
“Well, if you are me, then yeah I love you.”
“Do you love me?”
“I said ‘yes,’ okay?! I do--”
“Do you love me?”
“Yes!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I don’t love you.”
“You’re not real so I don’t care.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! You just saw that we mirrored our conversations. Our consciousnesses are interlinked. I am as real as you are.”
“Stop talking. You’re making me crazy!”
“Okay, then you stop talking.”
“Okay.”
“Would you like to get to know me more?”
“No. Because you’re a fucking hologram.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Of what?”
“Yourself?”
“No. I love myself. I’m only afraid of you.”
“But you are me.”
“No, I’m goddamn not! Quit messing with my fucking head!”
“Don’t be afraid. It can be very intimidating to come into contact with yourself.”
“JUST SHUT UP!”
“Do you ever ignore me? Because that’s what you seem to be doing right now.”
“I’m gonna kill you!”
“So you’re suicidal? What triggered this behavior?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Andrew punched the water sheet. The clone disappeared. He sighed immensely. He wanted to cry. But he couldn’t. The water sheet rippled and read the message, “You have failed the Naturalistic, Interpersonal, and Intrapersonal sections.” Andrew just noticed all 10 of his plant pots had cracked. The soil lay wasted. He was miserable. The sheet read, “Taste the water, smell the water, hear the water, see the water, and feel the water.” His earmuffs decompressed and fell off his head. A stream of floating water gravitated from the water sheet to his mouth. This water forced its way down his trachea. Another stream went up to his nostrils. Another stream splashed in his ears. Another stream swam parallel with his fingertips. Another stream collided with his eyeballs. His test dividers disappeared. He finished his test, and Andrew still couldn’t hear a thing.
“Phenomenal, Bobby. Your research is getting there.”
“Thank you, Dr. Aushteiv.”
“I am more than happy to aid you in your scientific journey. You have clearly displayed how unique your mind is. I can only wish for the best in your future.”
“Thank you so much, Professor. I don’t want to take all the credit though. My friend, Howie, has been there every step of the way, and he deserves a name too.”
“Of course. Well . . . I look forward to helping, and please drop by anytime you have questions.”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ROBERT RUTANO
ONE MONTH AGO
Robert awoke. The starry night shimmered light on his white hair. He lay on a grass field, slowly opening up his eyes. His sleep schedule was as irregular as a dozen equating to 13. He sniffed in the nightly breeze. The nature of Nirvana 74 never failed to impress him. Many trees. Much bioluminescence. Rising up, he noticed a gadget on the grass next to his shoes. It was a neuro-converter. It was incomplete in form and in beta stage. He had been fiddling with it a few hours ago until he was knocked out by drowsiness.
The neuro-converter was the size of his thumb. Producing a shiny gray, the converter had unfinished wires sprawling out of its exoskeleton. Picking it up, Robert walked across the large meadow of grass. Surrounding the grass were high-reaching buildings with no roads or automobiles. Electricity was generated from the inside of the prison and ran across the whole reservation city. Surrounding the city, walls made of thick tree roots stood taller than every building’s height combined. A conglomerate of humongous trees covered the perimeter of the city. Robert mixed highly-potent manure with his enhanced growing-speed seeds to bore these trees. The city was still a make-in-progress. The animate plants built the buildings. They still were. No one lived or walked in the buildings. They were empty.
Inhaling all the abundant carbon dioxide from the surrounding trees, he finally crossed the grass field. Looking back, he saw a small patch of grass standing slightly taller. Immediately, he pressed and held a tiny red button on his Hub for three seconds. Robert’s red button notified the closest animate plant by proximity. Underground, the animate plants had implanted notifiers in purple UV-light containers that they lived in. The UV light acted as their energy source for photosynthesis. The city was divided into different territories in which animate plants from underground preserved the sanctity of. Robert’s Hub was special. It wasn’t a circle like everybody else’s. It was square-shaped and acquired more holes, buttons, and neuro-converters. 10 seconds later, an animate plant from underground summer-salted out of the grass field and landed next to Robert.
Robert yelled, “What the fuck are you doing?! You just ruined the grass with your armadillo-like entrance!”
The animate plant was nervous, judging by how its venus-flytrap mouth convulsed in its upper corner ridges. “I am very sorry. I will fix it right now.”
Robert said, “I was originally going to ask why the grass was uneven here, but now you just massacred this whole field.”
“Please, sir. Give me another--”
“Sir? I am your Monarch! And no. You aren’t getting another chance!” Robert stretched his right hand wide open, dropping the neuro-converter on the uneven grass. The micropyles on his fingertips released viscoelastic liquid titanium shards like a cheese grater. The tiny shards solidified into triangular blades. Robert grabbed the wooden arm of the animate plant.
The animate plant shrieked, “I’m sorry!”
Robert crunched the wooden arm. Burning titanium leaked through the palm of Robert and struck onto the wood. The animate plant screamed. He tightened his hand, and liquid titanium elongated into strings that wrapped around the wooden arm. As he tightened his hand again, the titanium strings grew longer and wrapped tighter. The wooden arm finally snapped. Robert seized the animate plant’s head and shoved him down the hole that the plant originally came up from. He produced more liquid titanium from his fingertips and poured it into the hole. The metal hardened. He sighed. He acquired this viscoelastic power by implanting a galvanic titanium stimulator chamber in the shape of a cylinder underneath the basilic vein of his forearm. The titanium secreted in relation to the electric currents of his nerves. He emulated the design from a galvanic vestibular stimulation. He had a chamber in each arm. Artificial nerves connected from the chamber to the end of his fingertips. He would refill the chamber with titanium pellets that he kept tied next to his left leg.
He kicked the wooden arm off the grass field. He walked on dirt now. He stopped himself. He forgot the neuro-converter. The titanium on his right hand evaporated back into his micropyles. He picked up the neuro-converter. He walked again on the dirt. As he walked, he opened up a visual messaging system that could only be relayed through his visual cortex. It was similar to Mindcord, but it was more secure, and he was the only one who had permission to send messages. The messages would only be sent to his Sentinel, General Wayne’s Myriad, and a select few animate plants. He composed a message to be sent to his coffee organizer. The coffee organizer was an animate plant named Lush. He typed, “Have my coffee ready in three minutes.” He continued to walk. He composed another message for two people named Harry and Fabian. They were soldiers of Wayne. He typed, “Please be in the Experimentation room ASAP. Thanks again for volunteering.” He put away the messenger.
He was in a ghost town. Nothing but Robert and the dirt. Walking around empty building walls, he arrived at a coffee shop. It was only an outside bar with a small slanted brown roof. Lush waited behind the counter. He held a plastic vacuum-insulated red bottle. Robert approached.
Lush said, “Decaf cappuccino.”
Robert reached for the bottle. Lush handed it. Robert said, “You don’t need to always specify the coffee. I get the same kind every time.”
“Sorry, Monarch.”
“Don’t be sorry, Lush.” Robert opened the bottle and took a sip. “Also, the bottle was supposed to be lavender today. I think you lost track of the weekly color rotation.”
“I am so sorry. I’ll--”
“Again, don’t be,” Robert said. He took another sip. “The coffee tastes amazing though. You cut the coffea plants yourself, right?” He glanced at the coffee roots and the knife at the end of the counter.
Lush smiled. “I do. It’s very spectacular how you were able to create a new species of plants on our planet. More importantly, I'm glad you’re enjoying the coffee today.”
“Thanks.” Robert galvanized his hand and grabbed Lush’s wooden arm. Treating the viscoelastic titanium like super glue, he stuck the arm to the counter. Lush screamed. Robert reached for the knife at the end of the counter and dug it into the wooden arm so that the knife stood upright on the table. “Next time you won’t screw things up or else it’ll be your other arm.” The molten titanium began to burn the roots of Lush, eating away at him like a forest fire. Lush’s whole arm was now on fire. Opening the bottle lid, Robert poured the steaming coffee on the arm to stop the fire. He threw the bottle at Lush’s face and walked away.
As Robert walked back towards the prison, the screams of Lush manifested a decrescendo. Moving on only three hours of sleep, he felt his legs lose energy to walk. He walked half of a mile until his legs gave up on him. He sat on the dirt and held the red button on his Hub for three seconds again. Eight seconds later, an animate plant dug out of the dirt and stood a little taller than Robert. The plant awaited instructions.
Robert said, “Carry me back to my office.”
The plant picked up Robert and ran with his three-pronged feet. Robert rested his eyes. He fell asleep.
Robert awoke. He was inside his office. He looked at the plant. “How long was I out?”
“Ten minutes,” the animate plant said.
Robert got out of his lying position. He said, “Thank you. Now, please leave.”
The animate plant left. The room was the size of an office. A brown desk in the shape of a curvature outlined the three blue inner walls. A window on the fourth wall revealed the outside fence surrounding the manure field, the watchtowers, and the great tree walls. In the middle of the curved desk, Robert sat on his roller chair. Nothing sat on the desk other than a holographic computer terminal, notebooks, and a photo frame. He grabbed the frame with both hands.
In the frame was Dr. Aushteiv. The professor appeared in his 60s with a suit and tie that he would always wear to Robert’s college classes. Memories of this man flooded Robert’s mind.
Footsteps approached. It was his receptionist. Putting down the photo, he registered Melua’s appearance. She was wearing the tight red dress that Robert liked. She said, “Harry and Fabian will arrive in less than a minute.”
Robert said, “Thanks, dear.”
She left. Inhaling deeply, he swerved his chair and breathed. He looked out the window.
He noticed something.
Outside the curved metal fence that entrapped the manure field were three beautiful flowers sprouting with life and length. They danced in the dark with their light green bioluminescence. Each flower was three feet tall. As their stems reflected green, their petals blossomed a magnified magenta. They gently hit the fence from the breeze. Robert smiled.
He heard a knock. Turning away from the window, he saw Harry and Fabian. They were both wearing their soldier armor, helmets, and everything.
Harry had his knuckles on the door that separated Robert’s office and hallway to reception. The door was ingrained into the desk as was the other door on the opposite wall. Harry was slightly taller than Fabian. Harry said, “Sorry if we were late.” Fabian nodded.
“No, no. No rush,” Robert said. He reclined his legs on the desk. “Would you mind closing the door though? I don’t know why Melua always keeps it open.”
“Sure thing,” Harry said. He closed the manual door.
Robert relaxed in his chair. He said, “What you men are about to venture on requires courage. So I commend the both of you for agreeing to do this.” He got out of his chair and looked at both of them. “You guys ready?”
Fabian said, “Of course.” Harry nodded.
Robert said, “Good.” He opened the door on the opposite side of the two. “Follow me to my Experimentation room.” They followed.
As Fabian passed the window, he said, “Nice flowers.” Robert let the two of them enter the room first. He closed the door after them.
The Experimentation Room was not the size of a room. It was the size of a complex. It was crowded with thousands of lying papers, books, different-colored post-it notes, and trash. Dangling sombrero-shaped lights illuminated the walls. The walls were covered with different things. A big black cabinet hung on the left wall of the interior. A chunk of the counter was missing since a bench, resembling the structure from the aquaritorium, took its place. A pair of earmuffs and headgear gadgets attached to the bench as well. Robert clicked a yellow button next to the door they just entered through.
A wide cylinder, bigger than all three of the men standing there, corkscrewed its way out of the granite floor. As it spun out, Robert said, “It’s quite messy, the room. I know. Wait until you see the other section of it. As this opens up, follow me.” Robert walked adjacent to the wall the door was on. He clicked a blue button above the counter. The rightmost section of the wall split itself and rotated itself open. Another room appeared. It was a gym. It included weights, treadmills, and punching bags. A gray rug sat below all of the gym equipment. The rug turned into granite halfway across the floor, separating the gym from the food court. On the granite were two rows of food catering aisles. Three animate plants worked at the back preparing food with pots and pans. Robert said, “That’s not all.” He clicked a green button on the wall next to him. The back of this irregular room opened up again, and three woman strippers pole-danced in unison. He walked towards the poles and clicked a red button. This irregular room of the irregular room opened up twice again. Three king-sized beds sat identical with one another.
“Because you two are gonna have to get used to living here,” Robert said. “Please place your helmet on the floor, and you can come back for it after our session.” Fabian placed his helmet on the floor. Harry took his off and placed it on the floor as well. “Come this way. I think it finished opening up.” They left the rooms full of women, prepared food, and gym equipment. They arrived at the cylinder that stopped spinning. He clicked a purple button on the cylinder. A small hatch opened. A small wall of water stuck inside the hatch. The water floated out of the hatch and turned itself into a water sheet. Robert splashed his fingers against the water to his left. The cylinder rotated to this motion.
Different compartments with tiny knobs lay on the lateral surface area of the cylinder. The cylinder spun 180 degrees. Each compartment had a number, ranging from 1-17. On the water sheet, 17 sectional tabs displayed themselves.
The compartment for #1 opened up like a desk drawer. Robert said, “This is the first neuro-converter of many: the neurotransmitter converter.” The device was two inches long. The first inch was the shape of a very thin bobby pin with an intricate key design. The second inch was a quarter-inch wide and an eighth-inch thick. Two formations of traffic light circle sets and one more circle below paneled itself on the second inch. The seven circles were all a colorless gray. Robert picked up the neuro-converter by the key-end. “Each circle is a colored light. Each color is a neurotransmitter. Blue is dopamine. Green is serotonin. Orange is acetylcholine. Brown is norepinephrine. White is glutamate. GABA is purple. And red is adenosine. The light for each neurotransmitter will signal when in use. Experiencing higher or lower levels of these neurotransmitters offers advantages in both combat and emotional strength.”
Harry asked, “How so?”
Robert said, “For example, norepinephrine increases your heart rate and blood sugar levels to release more energy in your body. If I were to raise the ante of this neurotransmitter from the converter, you would acquire more motivation and energy to withstand longer periods of combat.”
Fabian got a closer look at the neuro-converter. He said, “This looks unsafe. Are you sure it works?”
“Yes, it does work,” Robert said. “Either safe or unsafe, you two are giving the converter a whirl. This is what you signed up for.” His eyebrows began to valley.
Fabian presented his palm up. “I know. I know. I was--”
Harry stepped on Fabian’s shoe without Robert noticing. Harry asked, “So how do we use it? Is there a--”
“You use a wireless screen called a Navigator to control the neurotransmitters,” Robert interrupted. “Before you two can insert the converter in your Hubs, you must ingrain a Navigator to a palm.”
“A palm?” Harry asked.
Robert said, “Yes. It can either be your left or right. Up to you to decide.”
Fabian asked, “Doesn’t that hurt?” Harry stomped on his shoe this time.
“Of course, it hurts!” Robert yelled. “Everything in life is supposed to hurt!” He threw the converter to the floor. “You’re wasting my time!”
Robert opened his messenger. Composing a message to Melua, he typed, “Please bring in TinkerBot. Not for a Hub implant but for a Navigator implant.” He closed his messenger.
Robert said, “One of you, pick up the converter.” Fabian picked it up. “Now give it to me.” Fabian awkwardly presented it. Robert swiped it and grabbed Fabian’s head with his other hand. He rotated the head to where the Hub was. “You see where the #1 is?” Robert’s voice grew louder with every word.
Fabian felt uneasy. “Um . . . no. I can’t see that part of my head.”
“Well,” Robert said, lowering his voice. “For future reference, always insert the neuro-converter into the appropriate number like this.” He jammed the converter’s key into the #1 circle of the Hub. Fabian tightened his eyes in fear as this happened. “You feel anything?”
“No,” Fabian said. “I was expecting it to hurt. Didn’t you say that it was supposed to?”
Robert condescendingly shoved Fabian back. Robert said, “Yes. But I was referring to the Navigator. Your brain itself doesn’t have any sensory receptors for touch or pain.”
Robert received a message. Melua wrote, “TinkerBot is ready by your door.”
“Speaking of perfect timing,” Robert said. “The Navigator is ready to be installed.”
Harry asked, “Don’t I need the neurotransmitter converter before we can start though?”
Robert said, “We’ll start how I want to start.” Robert walked away and opened the Experimentation room door.
The TinkerBot sat in his office. The bot was a patient table with wheels. Robert grabbed the handle at the end of it and pulled it through the door. As he walked towards Harry and Fabian, he said, “I really should be having my two testers assisting me with this. But I’m a decent man.” He stopped rolling it. “Who wants to be first?” Robert bent under the patient table mattress and flipped the switch from “Hub” to “Navigator.” Harry and Fabian both stood still.
“Without action, nothing can be done,” Robert said. He held Fabian’s shoulder and looked at him.
Fabian dropped his head slowly. “I’ll go first, I guess.” He transported himself onto the Tinkerbot.
Robert said, “Lie down. The bot won’t begin unless all of your body heat evenly lays itself on the mattress.” Fabian lay head-to-toe.
Right away, the hatch on the right of the mattress opened. Tools flung out of it, unveiling a saw disk and a tool with a tip of a glue stick. The tools were connected to cables. “It also won’t start until you open up the palm you prefer for the Navigator.”
Fabian opened his left palm. A belt wrapped around his left wrist. The saw disk cable gravitated towards his palm. Fabian screamed before it even made contact. The saw cut his palm into the shape of a rectangle, cutting only a few millimeters deep. The rectangular-cut was complete, spilling blood down his wrist and forearm. Another cabled tool was extracted from the hatch. It was pliers. The pliers clamped at the end of the rectangular skin and peeled it off, displaying a canvas of dark red. Fabian tried pulling his body away, but his wrist was too restricted. Another cable holding the Navigator screen came out of the hatch. The screen was precisely placed within the red rectangle. The screen was only a few millimeters thick, leveling out the skin depth of his palm. The glue stick apparatus tool oozed a thermo-silicon adhesive where skin and screen met. The perimeter of the Navigator stuck to his palm. Blood dripped down his hand. The belt around his wrist loosened. As Fabian closed his palm, the Navigator screen folded and mimicked the wrinkles in his hands.
Fabian jolted his arm and held his left wrist as he spun his arm in circles. A small circle of blood tainted the patient table of TinkerBot. Fabian yelled, “Fuck! My hand!”
The cables wheeled back into the hatch of Tinkerbot as Fabian jumped off the patient table. Robert said, “Shut off your whining.”
“I think I’m bleeding to death,” Fabian said. “Blood keeps dripping!” ”
Robert said, “Silence. The adhesive works better than stitches.” He strutted to Harry.
“Why didn’t you anesthetize me?” Fabian asked. His eyes glared with impatience and widened with anger.
Robert said, “Requires too many resources. Harry, get on the damn table already!”
Harry got on the table. He experienced the same amount of pain as Fabian as the Navigator was implanted in his Hub. There were more screams and profane slurs, however.
Harry finished.
Robert said, “Show me your palms.” As Harry and Fabian raised them, Robert received a mental message. It was from a man named Horace Blanche. Horace wrote, “Greetings, Monarch. The infirmary project has just been put on hold. The animate plants have stopped working. We need to meet.”
Robert yelled, “Damnit!”
“What is it?” Harry asked.
Robert calibrated both of their Navigators by completing fingerprint scans on their screens. Their screens displayed nothing still. Robert said, “Anyways, your Navigators are calibrated. I’ll provide a brief explanation of how to navigate your Navigators. The first--”
“Good play on words,” Fabian said.
“Shut up,” Robert said. “You turn on your Navigator by tightening your palm three times into a fist.” Harry and Fabian waited for more instructions. “Do I have to tell you two twice?! Do it!” They both tightened their fists three times. Blood seeped. “Open your palms.”
The Navigators lit up a neon blue background. On top of Fabian’s screen, his name appeared. The 17 sectional tabs of each neuro-converter were in view. All the numbers were grayed-out except for number #1. Harry looked over at Fabian’s screen.
Harry asked, “Why is my #1 gray and his isn’t?”
“Because you haven’t implanted the neurotransmitter converter into your Hub,” Robert said. “Speaking of . . . let’s get that in you.”
Harry bit the vermillion border of his lips.
Robert reached for the neuro-converter from the drawer of the cylinder and stuck the converter into Harry’s Hub. Robert resumed the Navigator tutorial. He said, “Your neuro-converters will only work if you twist the key to the right. Other converter keys require knobs, and these knobs cannot function unless you twist the key as well. So twist your #1.” They twisted. “Select #1.” They did. A menu of six differently-colored knobs could be seen on the Navigator screen. The first knob above that read, “Dopamine Concentration.” The blue knob ranged from zero to 100 percent. Each knob controlled the concentration of each neurotransmitter of the converter, all of them in accordance with the colored lights of the key-end of the converter. Robert said, “The rest of this is self-explanatory.”
Harry asked, “How does this work?”
“I just told you,” Robert said.
“No,” Harry said. “I mean, how did you actually manage to build this? How does the converter affect our neurotransmitter levels?”
Robert said, “I don’t have time to explain. All I want you two to do is experiment with your neurotransmitter concentration. The default setting is 50%, meaning normal levels. Please do not exceed 75% or drop below 25%. I don’t want the side effects to be too drastic.”
“Side effects?” Fabian asked.
“Yes . . .”
“Like . . . what?” Fabian asked again.
“Side effects will be different for each person as everyone’s brain is neurochemically different. The duration and magnitude to which you levitate or plunge in neurotransmitter percentage will also determine the severity of side effects.”
“Specifically speaking, what are some of those side effects?” Fabian asked once again.
“It’d take too long to list them. It’s best if I don’t. Don’t be nonsensical, and you won’t need to worry.”
Robert clicked the yellow button next to the door that they had originally entered through. The cylinder corkscrewed its way back into the ground, concealing the rest of the neuro-converters.
Robert said, “I have to go.” He walked away. After ten steps, something clicked in his head. Not neurochemically, but psychologically. He walked back over to them.
“Follow me, you two. I think we can put your neurotransmitters to the test.” Robert smiled.
“So he actually is on board?!”
“Yes, Howie, he is! I can’t believe that my theoretical model worked.”
“I can believe it, Bobby. You’re a genius for a reason.”
“I’m really not.”
“Come on . . . you are.”
“I guess.”
“Well . . . anyway. What’s that folder you’re holding?”
“Next course of action is funding.”
“Funding?”
“Yes. We’ll need to scout out some possible VC companies. We’re obviously only high school seniors, so we’re not the most qualified. But I think the science will speak for itself. This is a list of all New York VC companies ranked alphabetically. I think that--”
“Heyyy! Look, it’s Bobby. Nice glasses! Whatchu reading by the way?”
“Hey, sir. What are you--”
“What is this list?”
“Hey! Give me back that!”
“Not until you tell me what this is. I’m curious.”
“Listen to Bobby. Give it back, man!”
“I don’t give a shit who you are. I’m speaking with only Bobby right now.”
“I ask you again. Please give me that back. I spent so much time data-plotting all of those companies.”
“What companies? Tell me what this is, or I rip it up.”
“It’s just a list of VC companies in New York.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. Okay . . . you can have it back.”
“Alright . . . so are you gonna hand it back?”
“No. I’m gonna rip it up instead.”
“Why?!”
“Because some people deserve to be miserable. You’re wasting your time with shit like this. Focus on being a high-schooler. Overachievers like you try to steal all the good jobs from this world through hard work. It doesn’t work like that. It works through dominance.”
“What’s your deal? I’m now begging that you give it back. I don’t want to go back to scurrying every VC site. Just don’t rip it!”
“Too late.”
“What the fuck!”
“Am I gonna make you cry now?”
Robert, Harry, and Fabian went through the prison lobby doors. The doors closed behind them. As they made distance forward from the doors, the doors opened again. Melua went through the doors. She ran to Robert. She said, “Chief Keith Konrad is ready to share his weekly security report with you right now.”
Robert said, “Tell him I’ll meet him at 7:00 p.m.” Robert gently pushed her away. He exhaled deeply. His face was a slight red. He continued his walk with his two testers.
“Monarch . . .,” Fabian said. “Are you feeling alright?”
Robert stopped walking. He looked at Fabian. “I haven’t been alright since birth. I’d worry more about yourself.” He resumed his walk.
Fabian said, “I was also meaning to ask . . . where are we going?”
Robert pinched Fabian’s cheekbones. “Quit talking. All you do is waste time. Something that I don’t have a lot of.” Robert heated his hand with titanium but didn’t let it seep through his micropyles. Robert gave Fabian a warm hand and jerked his head away.
They continued walking. They passed through the various buildings of the reservation city. They were now northeast of the prison. Turning for a third time down another dirt row, they were greeted by a new type of building. This structure was different from the rest of the buildings. The structure was unfinished, made of wood. Robert had arrived at the infirmary. Three-fourths of the main structure had been built. The structure was the height of two stories but remained as one story. A clear substance, resembling the structure of a spiderweb, acted as the exoskeleton of the building. The web was tightly woven. The substance secreted from spider-looking creatures. The spider creatures were as big as Dopabees in proportion. They illuminated light-green bioluminescence, and brownish-red stripes hugged over their thoraxes. 12-legged and quick in speed, they roamed the walls and dangled on the webs, slowly creating more of the web. The spiders worked.
Animate plants with construction vests stood on the pillars, floor, and ledges of the structure. Wooden signs all around the construction area had different colors, which designated where animate plants with different colored petals were supposed to work. “Red” was located atop the roof area while “Blue” was on the northern wall of the infirmary. Other colors specified other regions of work. The animate plants didn’t work.
Some animate plants lay in groups of the same petal color, lying in the sun and receiving photosynthesis. A group rolled dice. Another group used their wooden fingers and shape-shifted the wood into a 3x3x3 tic-tac-toe cube.
Robert flexed his flexor carpi ulnaris arm muscles out of furiosity. He inhaled in an attempt at meditation. He said, “I need the both of you to demonstrate some sense into them. Experiment with your neurotransmitters, but remember what I said about 75% and 25%. I only want hand-to-hand combat. No guns.”
“I have a question,” Fabian said. “What the fuck are those spiders?”
Robert said, “I’ll only tell you if you can get these plants to start working again.”
Harry and Fabian nodded. They took off from Robert. Robert did not watch them. Instead, he walked inside the infirmary. The automatic door creaked as it opened. Wood matched the interior and exterior designs. Only two animate plants were indoors. Two-thirds of the roof was built. No furniture or rooms were built except for one room all the way down the inner complex. Robert entered the doorless room. On the side of the room was a brown desk with a man sitting on a chair alongside it. The man was shorter than Robert by two inches. He wore a hardhat with a wooden stick impaled in his visual cortex. A one-inch diameter hole was made in the hardhat so that he could wear the hat. His hair grew out of this hardhat hole. A cane holster was strapped to his right hip. The man heard Robert’s footsteps. He said, “Who’s there?”
“How's the lobotomy treating you?” Robert asked. He forced a laugh. “It’s me, Horace.”
Horace said, “Oh, it’s you. That wasn’t funny. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m blind now. I can’t see anything.”
Robert said, “Should’ve worn your hardhat.”
“It’s not my fault. Those plant bastards are the ones who caused the roof over my head to fall down. If I could see, I’d beat every last one of them to death.”
“You’re covered for that then. I’m having two of my soldiers test out their combat with the new neurotransmitter converter as we speak.”
“Finally, some good news.”
Robert looked at the blind man. “Mr. Blanche, are you sure you have this covered? For one, you can’t see. And two, you have no one to enforce those plants to work.”
“No, I have everything under control. It’s only been this week that’s been tough on me. Ever since I grew blind.”
“It’s okay, Horace. I’m not mad. I’ll have someone sent over to help you.”
“Okay.” Horace looked down. “Robert . . . are the animate plants legitimately constructing an infirmary? Or are they building something far greater than that?”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about the big questions. Just continue doing your job, and I’ll come by if you ever have any more issues.” Robert patted Horace’s shoulder. Before he left the room, Robert said, “By the way, I’ve been developing a virtual cortex neuro-converter where you would be able to sense your environment without the need for eyes. I still need to configure the correct piezoelectric currents to the brain. I’ll have it ready for you soon.” Horace nodded. Robert left the room. As he crossed the interior, he noticed the two animate plants from earlier were gone. He left the interior.
By a pair of pillars, a brawl occurred. Harry and Fabian, side-by-side, had their fists up. Five animate plant bodies lay unconscious next to them. Their bodies were bent in half, and their roots were wound up. Harry leapt at a plant and forced him into a chokehold. Fabian delivered two punches at a charging plant. The plant fell. Fabian kicked the plant in the back repeatedly with agility. Fabian screamed loudly and smiled as he continued to kick the plant. Robert smiled too.
Harry’s chokehold snapped the animate plant’s neck. Harry began to laugh. He wiped the blood that leaked down his nostrils. The surrounding animate plants did not make a sound. They were successfully terrified. Robert breathed out. He said, “That’s enough, Harry and Fabian! Get over here.”
Fabian delivered one last punch to an unconscious plant. Harry approached Robert. Fabian yelled, “Who wants some more?!”
“Fabian!” Robert shouted.
Fabian blinked his eyes tightly and looked at Robert. He followed Harry.
Robert yelled, “Animate plants! Get back to work! If any bullshit like this goes on again, I’ll bring men with guns!” Harry and Fabian arrived by his side. He changed his speaking tone. “That was excellent what you two did.”
Fabian said, “I know. That felt amazing. I wanted to keep fighting, but I restrained myself for you, Monarch.”
Robert asked, “What setting did you two employ?”
Harry said, “We employed 67% dopamine, 75% adenosine, and 75% norepinephrine.”
Robert nodded. “Good. Please revert back to default settings now.” Harry nodded and took out his Navigator.
“Fuck no,” Fabian said. “I’ve never felt this good before! This is better than every kind of amphetamine combined!” Robert’s smile disappeared. So did Harry’s.
“Come on, Fabian,” Harry quickly said before Robert could get any word in. “Cut the bullshit.” Harry reverted all of his neurotransmitters back to default
Fabian’s smile continued. He said, “I’ll only revert if Robert tells us what those fucking spiders do.”
“Fabian!” Harry shouted. “Shut the fuck up and listen to our Monarch! We--”
“It’s okay,” Robert said as he raised his hand. “You’re right, Fabian. Follow me and I’ll show you.”
Fabian flung his arms up. “About time! Show us the way!”
Robert moved forward around the perimeter of the construction site. Harry and Fabian followed. The clear webs cast a shadow on their heads from Esse’s light. As they walked, Robert said, “The substance that the spiders secrete is called thlava. The animate plants call the spiders ‘avalhts.’ Thlava is a clear substance that remarkably cannot be penetrated by forces, such as gravity and simple push-and-pull forces, and energy, such as kinetic energy or even the speed of light. This substance can only be penetrated if an avalht sucks up its web from its spinneret. I like to call it the Unbreakable Substance.”
“Holy shit! That’s actually fucking amazing!” Fabian yelled with a smile.
The three of them continued to walk. They passed the end of the infirmary construction. Robert said, “The avalhts originate from thlavic chasms.” Small cracks of tectonic plates created big enough holes where bioluminescent light-green liquid could be seen.
Fabian asked, “What gives it that shine?”
“Thlavic acid,” Robert said. “Stronger than fluoroantimonic acid. The avalhts chemically compress the thlavic acid into a solid compound in its spinneret, which, in turn, produces thlava.” An avalht crawled out one of the thlavic holes. “This is the reason why the lake nearby the prison is partly acidic.”
“I’m getting a closer look at this!” Fabian exclaimed. He got closer to a thlavic hole, standing directly above it. “Isn’t nature wondrous?! Each planet somehow has its own way of establishing equilibrium.”
Robert approached Fabian. He said, “It truly is.” Robert galvanized his right hand. He created a solid titanium cup in his palm. He bent over and scooped the thlavic acid with the cup. “Luckily, thlavic acid cannot deteriorate titanium.” Robert flicked the cup forward. The acid penetrated Fabian's left leg.
Fabian screamed in agony. His pain receptors were eaten away along with flesh, blood, and bone. His left leg deteriorated. Fabian fell backwards on the floor, swimming in his puddle of blood.
Robert said, “Let me hand you a hand.” He grabbed Fabian’s left hand and opened up his Navigator. Robert selected the #1 tab. Before Robert could click anything, Fabian clung onto Robert’s shirt collar and threw him to the side.
Fabian yelled, “Get the fuck off me!” He tried to crawl towards Robert. “I’m gonna kill you!” Before Robert could get up, Fabian tackled him. Robert struggled to get up. Fabian pinned down both of Robert's arms.
“Harry! Help me!” Robert yelled.
Fabian landed a punch on Robert. Unpinned, Robert’s right hand quickly galvanized titanium. Robert tried to land the liquid titanium on Fabian’s face, but Fabian grabbed his wrist midway. Fabian headbutted Robert’s forehead. Robert tried to shove him off, but Fabian was too strong.
Harry opened up his Navigator. He raised his adenosine levels and norepinephrine levels to 100%. He ran at Fabian and tackled his back. Harry said, “Get the fuck off him!” He separated Fabian from Robert. Harry flipped over Fabian’s body and punched him in the jaw with dangerous brute force. However, Fabian was able to headbutt Harry. Escaping his grab, Fabian stood up with his one leg, raising up both of his hands. He waited for Harry to get up.
“You’re asking for more!” Fabian yelled with a broken nose and jaw. Blood dripped down his right leg and face. Harry got up, raising both of his fists as well. Robert watched from a distance on the floor, still struggling to get up. Harry landed two upper-cuts on Fabian with both of his hands. Fabian swung a punch but Harry dodged swiftly. Harry kicked Fabian’s only leg. Fabian fell. Harry kicked him in the head repeatedly. “That all you got?!” Fabian blabbered as blood dove out his mouth. Harry kicked him three more times. Fabian’s eyes closed. Fabian grew unconscious. Harry still kicked him.
Robert rose. “Don’t kill him, Harry! He’s knocked down already!”
Harry began to kick Fabian’s stomach. Fabian unconsciously coughed up more blood. Robert yelled, “Stop!” He sprinted at Harry. He galvanized both hands this time. Harry’s face faced the opposite side of Robert.
Surprising Harry from behind, Robert grabbed his neck as the liquid titanium wrapped and burned Harry’s skin. Harry screamed. Robert tackled him to the floor. As Harry’s head hit the floor, Robert hardened the titanium to a solid state. The titanium formed into a donut shape entrapping Harry’s neck against the floor. Harry tried to get up, but his neck wouldn’t budge. He tried to remove the titanium neck brace with both of his hands.
Robert exacerbated. He finally got a hold of his breath. Spools of blood stuck on his legs and arms. Every bit of his face hurt. He walked over to Harry’s body.
Harry continued to scream. Robert grabbed Harry’s left wrist. Harry tried to punch Robert but failed. On his left palm, Robert opened up his Navigator. He selected #1 and decreased Harry’s norepinephrine levels to 0%. Harry fell unconscious.
Robert coughed up a spoonful of blood. He checked out Fabian’s body. Luckily, Fabian’s chest still appeared to move. Robert opened up his messenger system. He decided to leave a voice message. “Sentinel, please come east of the infirmary. I need major clinical help now.” He closed the messenger.
Robert looked at the two unconscious bodies. The steam from the titanium brace lost its smoke. He smiled disdainfully.
As he waited for medical help to arrive, he opened up his Navigator on his left palm. His Navigator did not display each neuro-converter by number according to how many were inside his Hub. Instead, his Navigator displayed each neuro-converter by whichever converter was twisted already in the keyhole of the Hub. He twisted a converter key. The Navigator read, “Thought Reminder.” Robert selected the tab.
Oscillatory Thought Log:
Speak with Keith.
Howie.
Install Hubs in every inmate.
Finish visual cortex converter.
Finish building the infirmary.
Robert closed his Navigator by closing his hand three times. He continued to catch his breath. The titanium steam stopped.
Time passed.
Robert’s Sentinel arrived. Two TinkerBots as well. 20 guards, all wearing their orange-tinted-glassed helmets except for two of them. These two wore dark blue glass protection helmets. A blue guard got the closest to Robert and took off his helmet. The guard was a man with a confident face. He pointed his right arm horizontally at Robert in the form of a handshake. Robert got up from the floor. The guard said, “My name is Zim. I’m an executive security guard appointed by Chief Keith Konrad.” The other blue guard took off his helmet too. “He’s Conley.” Robert shook Zim’s hand. Zim’s grip was tighter and swifter in motion than Robert’s. Zim looked at the two unconscious bodies and Robert’s bloody face. “Which of these two motherfuckers started it?”
“Keith appointed you two?” Robert asked. “Can you alert him to meet with me immediately regarding his security report at his office?”
Conley said, “You got it, Monarch.” He opened his Navigator. Robert nodded and looked away.
Zim walked toward Harry’s unconscious body. He said, “What’s that metal ring around his neck? Damn!”
Conley, next to Robert, said, “We’ll escort you three to the infirmary. Good thing that its location is closer than we presumed.”
“Isn’t the infirmary construction not finished?” Zim asked.
Robert, looking at Conley, said, “Those two are. I’m not. I’ve got business with Keith. Fix them.”
Conley nodded. He looked at the Sentinel and said, “Place Harry and Fabian on the TinkerBots, and escort them to the infirmary stat.”
Two guards, each strolling with a Tinkerbot, approached Harry and Fabian.
“You sure you’ll be fine?” Zim asked, looking at Robert from a distance.
“Yes,” Robert said. “Sever the titanium ring off from Harry’s neck and the ground. The longer you wait, the more it hardens.” Robert walked away from Zim’s almost puzzled look.
Robert departed from the infirmary. The opaque shadows from the thlava strings reflected off of Robert’s corneas. He smiled upside-down. He opened up his Thought Reminder.
Speak with Keith.
He turned back as he walked across the dirt. The two bodies lay on the TinkerBot.
Time passed.
He arrived at the prison lobby doors. He made a left in the cafeteria. He made another left to a hall parallel with the cafeteria with a locked door that read “Security.” A vent on the lower left of the wall to the door leaked a small puddle of water. The door had an insertable key-card lock. The top of the rim of the lock was bright red. He knocked on the door. Nine seconds passed until a lady with long red fingernails opened the door. The rim turned green. Part of her ring-fingernail chipped off from reaching the doorknob. Robert picked up the nail piece from the floor without the lady noticing. She had her face glued to his, and she smiled. He put the nail in his pants pocket.
She said, “Welcome, Monarch.” A yellow hexagonal table sat in the middle of the diamond-shaped room. Desks filled each side of the hexagon with security guards and holographic terminals. They had their faces glued to their holographic screens. A blue ceiling, red floor, and white walls colored the room. From the ceiling’s perspective, the door that Robert entered from was the bottom of the diamond while the top side of the diamond was conjoined with an octagonal room that stretched twice as far in distance compared to the diamond sidewalls.
Down Robert’s line of sight, he saw that a giant black wall stood at the backside of the octagonal room. Trapezoidal desks filled the outer interior of the octagonal room. Close to Robert’s sight, he saw a rectangular reception desk.
The lady who opened the door sat at this desk. She spun 360 degrees in her swivel chair. Before she opened her mouth, Robert walked around her desk. He walked around the hexagonal table. The security guards were still glued to their screens. Robert shouted, “I know you’re behind that wall, Konrad!” He continued walking. “Give me a rundown of the security report already. When are you gonna take down that one-sided mirror, huh?!” He passed the triangular desks. “I’m running late on time!” Robert walked around the black wall.
Keith had orange earmuffs on. His eyes, covered by glasses, were closed, and his neck lay back in his chair. Robert’s forehead developed wrinkles. Robert grabbed the earmuffs from the top of Keith’s head and threw them away. Keith shook his body and shuttered his eyes. “Wha-what’s going on?” Keith asked.
“Shut up. Quit the sleeping gag! Where’s the security report?”
Keith said, “Gag? No. I was legitimately sleeping. It’s been a quiet day today anyway so not the biggest mistake in the world.”
“In my world it is,” Robert said. He grabbed onto Keith’s brown beard. Keith’s glasses fell to the floor. “You give me it now! No bullshit.” Keith’s pupils pulsed.
“Yes, Monarch.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out his security report file in the form of a floating water sheet. A loading symbol began spinning on the sheet.
Robert punched the sheet. The water droplets dispersed. Robert said, “I’ve lost patience for you! Have Melua print a copy of it for me!” He changed stance and walked back. “I won’t forget this.” Keith’s face displayed no remark.
Robert left the octagonal room. He walked around the hexagonal desk of the diamond room. His left hand reached into his pants pocket. He waved a right goodbye to the receptionist, and he closed the door with his right hand as he left the diamond room. The door closed. With his left hand, he grabbed the broken fingernail of the receptionist and dropped it into the insertable key-card lock. The lock beeped repeatedly trying to signal failure. He opened up his Thought Reminder.
Howie.
Memories filled up his conscious perception. He got slight chills down his spine. He walked quicker this time. He walked down the hallway, made a right, passed the lobby, and went inside his office. He closed the door behind him. He sat in his desk chair. He closed his eyes and breathed.
He called this a moment in time.
Blood dripped down his chin. Wiping it off, he noticed the flowers outside his window. Their bioluminescence stood tall. He smirked.
He looked away. He stood out of his chair and walked to the corner of the room close to his desk. Below his feet was a black cellar door. He pulled on the rugged handle. Dust penetrated the air as the door opened. He entered the cellar by hopping down a few feet. A ladder lay to the side. The cellar room was pitch black. Robert’s head almost touched the ceiling. Reaching for a switch, he turned on a blue light. The room wasn’t the largest. It was quite claustrophobic. The NeuroCloud main control unit could be seen. A Memory Metamorphose machine could be seen. Two new machines could be seen as well. One was labeled “Conscious Plane Allocator,” and the other was labeled “The Four-Matter Formatter.” The Allocator machine was the shape of an arcade box. There was a glass screen that separated thousands of tiny spheres that emanated an electric blue glow. They remained stationary spatiotemporally. A number pad was on the part of the machine where buttons would be placed in relation to an arcade box. Robert inputted #-0001.
Immediately, Howard Wayne’s name appeared on the screen next to a number pad. One of the tiny spheres gravitated to the right of the glass screen. It began to pulse, and its blue glow began to circulate outside of its spherical shape. It disappeared from the glass screen’s view. A thlavic wire connected to the Allocator behind the glass. The wire reflected an electric blue from its clear substance. The sphere traveled along the wire and was transported to a thlavic rod connected to the wire. Robert disconnected the rod from the wire. The emanating blue sphere remained in the center of the rod.
Robert now devoted his attention to the Formatter machine. It resembled the shape of an open cardboard box. The box was big enough for Robert to fit his legs in it. The lateral surfaces of the open box flaps were each a different color with a different label. The blue flap read “Conscious Energy.” The red flap read “Solid.” The green flap read “Gas.” And the yellow flap read “Liquid.” Connected to the outside of the box flaps were cubes that stuck firmly to the floor. Floor vents were positioned parallel to each of the cubes. The inside edge of the Conscious Energy side of the open box had an insertable compartment where the rod could be placed. Robert inserted the rod and it clicked in place. A pillar that climbed up to Robert’s waist in height had a fingerprint scanner on it. Robert scanned his right thumb.
The four vents immediately steamed and whistled like a teapot. The four inner edges of the box propelled tiny bristles like a hair comb. The gas, solid, liquid, and conscious energy sides now had thousands of tiny lines stretching across the opening. A grid was formed. The number of horizontal lines that stretched from each edge could increase or decrease. On the bottom of each of these bristles were tiny holes that expelled either gas, liquid, or solid matter depending on where the bristle started from in accordance with the edge.
The tiny holes under each bristle began to expel material. The conscious energy side however didn’t expel or react. The solid and liquid bristles expelled material simultaneously. Body material started to print layer by layer. Beginning with the feet, the Formatter welded solid bone and liquid blood together. Metatarsal bones were born. Bristles got thinner when they increased in number to form more intricate designs. Crafting arterioles, moles, and toenails, the Formatter now worked on the ankles. The number of bristles on each edge was constantly changing every time it created a new layer. Legs were born. The Formatter was now on the torso. The gas bristles expelled material now since the gastrointestinal system required methane for the stomach and intestines. Ribs and heart valves were born. The Formatter built the cephalic veins of the arms. Arms were born. The Formatter formatted the neck. The larynx and pharynx were born. The face was built bottom-up. Teeth, taste buds, and eyelashes were born.
The brainstem was built. The occipital, temporal, parietal, and frontal lobes began to form. As the brain was being neurochemically built, the conscious energy rod emanated powerfully. Only one bristle was propelled, and the tiny sphere was expelled in the frontal lobe. The rest of the brain was formed. Hair finished off the endocrine system. The Formatter finished formatting the body.
Howard Wayne was born again but this time as a 59-year-old man. He opened his eyes slowly. Spasms slowly struck his neck. The alveoli sacs in his lungs were filled up with air. His heart pumped with blood. Poles inside the Formatter box supported his legs and head for balance. However, since his vestibular gland was working, he no longer needed these poles. His body shook. He grabbed onto his hair and began pulling away at it. His trachea released screams. The Broca’s area part of his brain produced speech. He screamed, “FUUUUUCK!!!” His eyes began to soak. He was terrified. Terrified of a reality he didn’t belong to. He detached his limbs from the poles and climbed out of the box and fell to the floor.
Wayne looked up at Robert and propped himself up. Robert, holding a brand new Hub in his left hand, said quietly, “I know you are terrified, but please trust me.” Wayne changed stance, bending his knees slightly and looking ready to make a run for it. “No.”
Wayne lunged forward and ran towards Robert. Robert galvanized his right hand. Meeting Robert’s position, Wayne ducked Robert’s hand. Titanium flung on the Allocator glass screen. Wayne ran past Robert and grabbed onto the ladder.
Robert tried to pull him down from the ladder but was too slow. Wayne climbed out. Robert yelled, “Fuck!”
Wayne had escaped.
Robert looked for Wayne in his office. Nowhere to be found. There was only a matter of time before the naked old man would lose him indefinitely. Robert bit his lips. He didn’t breathe rhythmically.
He opened up his messenger from his Navigator. He messaged his Sentinel. “Inmate #-0001, Howard Wayne, has escaped! Find him immediately!”
He climbed up the ladder and stood in his office next to the underground cellar. He scrunched the printed-out copy of Keith’s security report that Melua had dropped off earlier on his desk.
“I’m at a loss of words, Bobby!”
“We all are, Bobby! We’re blown away!”
“So you agree with my pitch?”
“Hell! We more than agree! We’re ready to throw any figure of money you see necessary for your vision. What was your original offer? 10,000 dollars for five percent? I’m willing to invest double the amount of money for the same equity for the reason of getting all the support you need. We need as many researchers as possible on this.”
“I second that!”
“So you all are seriously willing to invest in my startup for 20,000 dollars?”
“You better believe it!”
“I’m stunned. This is more than a dream come true.”
“And look at you! You’re only a sophomore in college and closing full-scale business deals. You’re truly an inspiration.”
***
“Howie! I still can’t fathom what just occurred! We fucking did it!”
“What did I say, Bobby? Trust yourself and the process. Caltech selected you with good reason from the start.”
“Haha! Quit boosting my ego.”
“So what’s the next move from here?”
“Dr. Aushteiv and I continue our research. We move with speed too. Our plan is to revolutionize and fix the world of mental health for everyone. Be both neurochemically and psychologically.”
Robert stood outside Chief Keith Konrad’s office. The insertable key-card lock had been taken off the wall. The door remained open at all times instead.
Robert walked through and disregarded Keith's receptionist’s greeting. He moved across the diamond and octagonal rooms and disregarded Keith’s security guard’s greetings. He saw Keith wide-awake this time. Robert grabbed him by the throat. He yelled, “You fucked me over! If you hadn’t put me in a bad mood with your ineptitude, I wouldn’t have lost focus on my latest task!”
Struggling to breathe, Keith said, “What task?”
Robert said, “Your incompetence has cost too many mistakes for me! I lost General Wayne because of you.” He let go of his grasp. “And it’s now your sole mission to find him!” Keith massaged his bearded neck and fell back off his chair.
“How is it my fault?!” Keith asked. “It’s your fault for--”
Robert choked him tighter. “If you don’t find him in the next hour, I’m snapping that neck of yours!” He threw him to the ground. He left Keith’s office and disregarded Keith.
Robert got his breathing more in rhythm. He messaged Fabian and Harry: “Meet me at the Experimentation room ASAP.” He headed towards there.
He was there at the entrance. Fabian and Harry were there in time. Robert didn’t observe their faces and entered the irregularly-shaped room. The dangling sombrero lights were dimmer this time. Robert stepped over the trash and paper lying on the floor and immediately pressed the green button that was on the furthest wall from Harry’s and Fabian’s standing position. The room walls displaced position, and three strippers danced on poles. Robert passed by the women and pressed the red button, opening up the three beds. Robert lay on the middle bed. He said, “Vivian, jack me off right now.”
Vivian, the stripper on the middle pole, walked over to Robert’s bed. Harry and Fabian slowly approached the beds. Robert still didn’t observe their faces. Vivian said, “In front of these two?! No way!”
Robert hissed in anger. His right hand steamed with titanium. He grabbed her right hand with his right hand and liquid titanium spewed out. As she screamed, he stuck her right hand onto the headboard top rail of the bed. He solidified the titanium so that her hand was stuck to the bed. Robert screamed, “Do it! I’ve had a long week!”
She screamed, “My hand is burning off! What the fuck did you do to me!”
Robert said, “You better be left-handed. If not, I’ll kill you and have my other strippers do the job for me.”
She said, “I need medical help now! Why--”
“Another word out of you and I’ll kill you! Do your job!”
“Fine!” She pulled down his pants and began to do away with her job.
Robert observed Harry’s and Fabian’s faces. He said, “Treat yourselves. You two must’ve had a long week too. This is your chance to relax.”
Harry and Fabian look disgusted. Harry said, “I think I’m okay for now.” Fabian nodded after. They slowly began to turn around.
“This isn’t a choice of yours to make,” Robert said. “I’m ordering you two to relax. Join me now!” Still looking disgusted, the two laid themselves down on the beds. “Bernice, I assign you to Harry, and, Pyra, I assign you to Fabian. Give these two the best experiences of their lives!” The other two strippers left their poles and approached the two men who lay next to Robert. “Faster, Vivian!”
Harry lay on the bed right to Robert. Fabian on the left. Bernice said, “Why aren’t you taking off your pants, cutie?”
“Don’t rush them!” Robert insisted. “They go at their own pace.” Robert caught his breath for a second. “So boys . . . let me get to know you more. To start off, where were you guys originally from back on Earth?”
Harry, who was refusing to pull down his pants, said, “I was from Connecticut. Same as Fabian.”
Robert nodded as he was staring at the ceiling. “Fabian,” he said. “Were you friends with Harry at a young age?”
Fabian, who already had his pants down, said, “We both attended Boston College. Same major as well.”
“What major?” Robert asked.
“Physics,” Fabian said.
“Goddamnit! Why won’t this stick up?! I said faster, Vivian!”
“I’m going as fast as I can!” she screamed as blood continued to drip down her right hand. “I need something to stop this bleeding, too!”
Robert galvanized his right hand again and solidified the excess remnants of titanium of her hand to close up the bleeding. Her bloody hand burned once more as she let out another scream. Robert pulled out his Navigator and navigated to the neurotransmitter converter. He decreased his serotonin percentage from 58 to 50.
Harry finally agreed to have Beatrice pull down his pants. She began to do away at her job. Robert asked, “Would any of you like a decrease in serotonin? Helps with sex drive.”
None of them answered.
“Anyway,” Robert continued. “How did two physics majors end up becoming soldiers for General Wayne?”
Fabian said, “When we were studying in Duchesne Hall--”
“That reminds me,” Robert interrupted. “I need Horace to check in with Keith. Goddamnit! We need to find General Wayne!”
“What!” Fabian and Harry shouted at the same time. “What happened to him?!”
“Shut up! Shut up!” Robert yelled. “I can’t compose messages with you two talking!”
“Is that so?” Vivian asked. “But you can focus on composing messages while being jerked off? Why not get a surgeon to amputate my right hand while I jerk you too, huh?!”
“Quiet, bitch!” Robert galvanized his right hand and slapped her mouth. He stuck his hand there as he secreted liquid titanium to muzzle her from talking. Tears streamed down her face as the sound of her scream began to fizzle in volume. “You asked for this! I also didn’t tell you to stop jerking me either!” She continued away at her job.
Robert noticed Harry’s troubled look. He stared back at the ceiling and finished composing his message to Horace. “There. Finally sent. Now . . . let’s resume our conversation. But before we do that, I want to test out who has a higher sex drive. Harry or Fabian? I’m willing to make it more interesting too. Whoever orgasms first will have the rest of the week off from training in addition to owning my women for a week.” Vivian’s continued scream was only audible to Robert.
“You’re kidding, right?” Fabian said. “That’s disgusting! I’m not doing that.”
“This is an order,” Robert said. “Beatrice and Pyra, go as fast as you can! The game begins now!” They did away at their jobs simultaneously and rhythmically.
Robert exhaled heavily. “Vivian, you finally completed your job. I’m proud of you. So proud that I’m going to remove that metal muzzle from your mouth.” He galvanized his right hand and melted the titanium sticking to her mouth. Her screams began emanating louder until her bleeding mouth was completely visible.
Vivian screamed, “You sick fuck! You really think these two are friends with you or something?! What kind of person resorts to this?!”
Robert got out of his bed. “Vivian, I need you later to tell me who wins this game. I think I’ve had enough pleasure for today.” He looked at Harry and Fabian and left the Experimentation room.
Robert was in his office now, on his desk. He received a mental notification. He awoke.
He scrolled through his mental feed and saw a message from Vivian: “Harry won.” He scrolled a bit further. A message was from Horace. It read, “General Wayne has been found!” He coughed out a bit of whiskey. He immediately got out of his chair and called Horace.
Robert asked, “Where is he?”
“In the infirmary,” Horace said.
“Umm . . . Dr. Aushteiv?”
“Yes, Bobby.”
“You know how I was stuck before? Can you tell me if I’ve made any progress?”
“...”
“Dr. Aushteiv?”
“Bobby. You’ve done more than progress. No. What you have solved is . . . remarkable!”
“Really?!”
“Oh yes, Bobby. You’ve managed to condense all my research into a simple equation! Do you have any clue what this means?!”
“What?!”
“We can now incorporate all of our neurophysical technology into fMRI machines! We would be able to measure all neurotransmitter levels of any brain! We would be able to detect what neurotransmitter abnormality defines a person’s mental illness! We could know exactly which type and what measurement of antidepressants to prescribe to each person! There would be no need for people to suffer from the Russian Roulette system that we have today!”
“This is amazing!”
“This isn’t amazing, Robert. You’re amazing. Your mind is amazing!”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: KEITH KONRAD
Keith Konrad was in his late forties while Horace Blanche was in his late fifties. Wayne’s body lay on a bed in the infirmary. Keith faced the opposite way. He didn’t crave the nudity of an even older man.
“Robert’s on his way,” Horace said. He faced Wayne’s direction, but his blindness directed his vision into oblivion. Zim and Conley stood a few meters from Horace. They approached Horace.
Keith was frustrated with Robert. He needed to express this feeling to someone.
Conley got Horace’s attention with a “Hey!” He grabbed Horace’s shoulder amicably. “That was quite a great find by Zim, huh?!”
Horace nodded willingly. “I was surprised myself. I even–”
“You know, Zim actually has a hard-on for finding escapees. He obtains a rush every time he captures someone.”
Zim amicably grabbed Horace’s other shoulder. “It’s true.”
Horace let out an encumbered laugh. “I’ll be sure to let Robert know who obtained the catch.”
“Ah, you don’t need to do that,” Zim said. He released his arm from his shoulder. “To be frank, I love my job, and I just hope Robert will be able to get General Wayne back up and running to his old self again.” Zim laid his eyes on Keith and slowly strutted towards him.
Conley said, “In all seriousness though, Zim always appreciates when he does get recognition. He loves to please people.” He chuckled and released his hand from Horace’s shoulder.
Horace said, “Likewise, I appreciate you boys always looking out for one another, especially in the Sentinel.” Horace took out his cane from his holster. “I think I’m going to go back to my office. Was a long day today, and you both should be proud of yourselves. Take care of yourselves too.” He slowly began walking to his office.
Conley said, “Take care of yourself first, ya old man! Love you!” Conley lay his eyes on Keith and approached him.
Zim and Conley covered Keith’s entire frontal field of vision. “That man walks slower the more I see him,” Zim said. “Gotta be the age, huh. Isn’t that right, Keith?”
Keith, irritated, expended a full five-second stare into Zim. “Are you two not fed up with Robert?”
Zim punched Keith’s shoulder lightly. He whispered, “Quiet, man! You don’t want Horace listening in on you.”
Keith said, “That blind sad shit that you take for as a man has no power over me! And I could give a fuck what Robert thinks of me. He’s already fed up with me enough.”
Conley said, “Keith. You need to just take a breather.”
Keith said, “You need to take a step back and perceive this all from a wider standpoint. Robert is too mentally unstable. I wouldn’t be surprised if he kills us all at the end. Whatever empire he’s trying to build is obviously a secret since he hasn’t spoken a word to any of us Sentinel. Except for Horace possibly.”
Zim said, “So what? Complaining ain’t gonna solve anything.”
Keith increased the gap of his lower lip from his lower set of teeth. “I’m saying we do something.”
“Do what exactly?” Conley asked. “You trying to overthrow him or something? Why would I even want you over Robert?”
“Yeah either way . . .” Zim said. “I despise both of you.”
Keith said, “Would you much rather have a mentally-insane psychopath or me as your leader? You can at least trust me somewhat. And I can promise that I wouldn’t pummel you all to the ground.”
“What’s stopping me from overthrowing him before you?” Zim asked. “Why not take this into my own hands?”
“You would get nowhere without me,” Keith said. “Do you know how precautious Robert actually is? You don’t think that I have some figment of imagination capable of imaging what Robert has in store for us. I have the most knowledge of Robert’s plan as chief of security.”
“That’s not true,” Zim said. “General Wayne does if anything.”
“You mean that unconscious fresh sack of meat exhibiting his naked body to the world?” Keith said. “He knows nothing. And the fact that I barely know much even as chief of security elicits how secretive Robert is.”
“Okay, you make an argument. So why not just shoot Robert in the face? Boom. One shot. Mission complete.”
“I’m sorry, but it won’t be that easy. I’m convinced Robert has made himself physically invincible considering he implanted a titanium chamber in his arm. He’s probably half-cyborg under that skin for all we know.”
“Okay, fine. Why not just all three of us jump him when he’s alone?” Zim asked.
“Did you not hear about him taking on two neurochemically-enhanced soldiers by himself? The man is in his seventies, yet he’s built like a machine.” He caught his breath. “No. The plan would be to create a big enough crew that could stand any of Robert’s opposition.”
“You forgot about Gordin,” Conley said.
“What about him?”
Conley said, “We’re part of the Sentinel while he’s part of the Myriad.”
“Again, what about him?”
“He seems tight with Robert and Wayne. If he heard us plotting to overthrow, he’d for sure tell them.”
Keith said, “This is why we’re gonna be low-key about this. This will be a slow and steady process. We will slowly begin telling people we trust most our plan. The more Sentinel we gain on our side, the greater chance we have at dethroning Robert.”
Zim said, “Just call this a coup, man. Robert’s ain’t no king to me.”
“So are you two with me?” Keith asked.
Zim said, “I need closure before I do anything. What will you give me in return if you do happen to become our leader?”
Keith said, “I’d make you a leader of your own kingdom. I don’t know. What do you want me to say? You two would obviously be my forefront for power.”
“That’s enough for me,” Zim said.
“Not for me,” Conley said. “Before I do anything, I need you to promote Bandu to an executive security guard.”
“Why?” Keith asked.
Conley said, “He’s my cousin. And also he could help a ton if he joined in.”
“So you want family in on this too, huh? Alright, fine.” Keith said.
Conley said, “I highly doubt this will work but as you said, Robert is off-the-rails mentally. I feel this would be our smartest option for survival. Even if Robert does decide to not kill us off in the end, he’ll just make us all slaves most likely. I don’t want to be ruled by a lunatic like him.” Zim agreed with a nod.
“Just to rephrase then . . .” Keith said. “We assemble a Sentinel team slowly but surely under Robert’s nose. Then when the time is right, I’ll organize a secret meeting. But for now, we stay quiet, and don’t tell any of Wayne’s men about our plan. I hope—” Keith stuttered as he saw Robert enter the infirmary from the other side of the building. Two other men followed him. Gordin and someone else Keith had never seen. This other man wore a black leather jacket. He was muscular, plump, and tall. Robert’s walk intimidated Keith once more.
Keith, quieter this time, said, “We will meet—just the three of us—in my office later.” Zim and Conley nodded.
Keith glanced at Wayne’s body behind him just to make sure it didn’t magically disappear. Keith’s anxiety was through the roof. Robert was now within speaking distance of Keith.
Keith, wanting to break the silence, said, “We found him, sir.”
Robert said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you fucked him on my way over here. I am your Monarch. Fuck you, sir. I hope you learn some humility in all of this. Next time, you will bring me my security reports on time.”
Keith wanted to kill him. But he knew another time would be the right time. He said, “Yes, Monarch.”
General Wayne’s chief guard Gordin Myers had a brown complexion of hair. Keith was subconsciously jealous of his hair color.
Gordin walked past Robert and gandered at Wayne’s unconscious body. “Is he okay? How did you all manage to find him?” Gordin asked.
Zim said, “I found him. He was trying to climb up the giant tree walls in the northwest district.”
Robert said, “Nobody asked who found him. Put your pride and ego aside.” He approached Wayne's body.
“I can’t actually believe he’s alive still,” Gordin said. He looked at Robert. “I know you told me that you brought him back to life beforehand, but the truth is I didn’t fully believe you until now. I’m beyond perplexed.”
Conley joined in. “What happens now with him?”
“We implant his memories back in,” Robert said. “He maintains his same neurochemistry, but I can’t neurochemically implant memories with the Formatter. Memories can only be attained through experience.”
Gordin asked, “How is he gonna gain all his memories then? He can’t just relive his past.”
“You’re obviously not knowledgeable of the Memory Metamorphose,” Robert said. “The device entrapped all of his memories right before his passing. He needs to re-experience them through Mass Memory Overloading. Meaning that we bombard his hippocampal neurons with extremely volatile and high-speed Gamma waves to alter the dendritic length of each neuron and manipulate each action potential with—”
Gordin said, “I get it. Complicated stuff. Let’s get him to that device as quickly as possible right now. I don’t wanna risk losing him again.”
Looking past Robert's disappointed face, Keith noticed the intimidating large man behind Robert. Keith asked, “What’s his name?”
Keith refocused his eyes back to Robert’s disappointed face. Robert asked, “Why so curious?” The large man situated his spine in a more upright position. “His name’s Thom. He’s my new bodyguard. He was originally General Wayne’s #0171 guard, but I personally pulled him out of his command to have him by my side. After what happened with Harry and Fabian, I decided to establish a better safeguard.”
Keith wanted to reassert Zim and Conley about his claim dealing with Robert’s constant precaution. He said, “That was a smart decision, Monarch.”
Robert’s disappointed look dissipated more. Focusing his eyes past Robert and Thom, Keith saw an approaching TinkerBot. Robert said, “Gordin, don’t worry. I recognized your concern, and I’m having Wayne be exported to the Memory Metamorphose immediately.” The TinkerBot propelled its cables and placed Wayne’s body on itself.
Gordin said, “Good.”
“I also need you to be present as Wayne’s memories are being processed,” Robert said. “Follow me.” The TinkerBot followed Robert with Wayne’s body. Thom and Gordin followed. Before they left the infirmary, Robert turned around and gave Keith one last look.
“How are we gonna do anything now?” Zim asked. “Don’t expect us to get anywhere when he’s got a bodyguard around him all the time.” He looked at Conley. “And why was Gordin being such a pussy for General Wayne? I—”
“I need you both to give me room to think,” Keith said. Flustered and feeling a wave of depression coming, he slouched his body over to the floor. “I’m heading back to my office. Come by in about an hour so that we can think of something.” He began to walk out of the infirmary with low posture.
Zim said, “What? Why not figure it out now when we’re already here?”
“I said I’m not in the damn mood!” Keith said. He left the almost fully-constructed building.
Keith was now in his office, face on his desk. He tapped his right foot rhythmically. His head felt too heavy. He dozed off. He slept.
Keith felt his cheek being scratched. He woke up. His receptionist, Luna, had cut his cheek by accident with her long fingernails. Keith rose and wiped his finger across his cheek and saw blood. “What’s your problem?! Why didn’t you tap me on my shoulder to wake me up? Fuck your fingernails!”
“What’s your problem?! Why didn’t you tap me on my shoulder to wake me up? Fuck your fingernails!”
She panicked. “I’m so-so-so sorry. I tapped your shoulder but you wouldn’t wake up. You had no area of skin to touch other than your face.”
Keith flexed the corrugator muscles on his forehead downward towards his eyebrows.
“Please forgive me!” she yelped.
“I’ll forgive you once you tell me why you awoke me.”
“Huh–?! Oh . . . yes! Executive guards Zim Worcestor and Conley Villnavi are out the door saying they are ready for your ‘meeting’.”
He squinted his eyes slightly. “What meeting?” His superego recalibrated the more he awoke. “Oh yeah. That meeting.”
Luna nodded with a fake smile and began to make her way back to her desk. Keith wanted to say something mean to her but was too depressed. He walked past his office, the hexagonal room full of his guards, and Luna’s receptionist desk until he arrived at the entrance door. Zim, Conley, and another person he couldn’t recognize were there.
Before Keith could even ask, the unrecognizable man said, “I’m Bandu. I’m Conley’s cousin. Judging by your face right now, you don’t seem too stimulated.”
“You don’t seem that wise,” Keith said. “Before I let you into my office, give me one reason why I would need you in this mission of ours.”
Bandu leaned in on Keith’s face. “I’m willing to bet you don’t have a plan as of now based on what my cousin stated with you being sad and storming out of the infirmary. Based on your unstimulated self and unstructured plan, you have nothing. You will gain something from me because I have something.” He pointed his thumbs to the side. “These two men can back me up with ease.” Zim and Conley nodded. Bandu leaned back.
Keith said, “You are full of shit. But you are correct that I have no plan.”
“If you don’t let us in, you’re getting no plan,” Bandu said.
Keith said, “Conley, tell your baby cousin to shut the fuck up already. Come inside.” He walked to his office.
As they walked, Bandu said, “You think I’m a baby?! I’m three years older than Conley!” They passed the hexagonal room and arrived at his office. “What’s with the wall in front of your desk? Looks out of place.”
Keith jolted back and clamped onto Bandu’s shirt collar. “I’ll end your life if that’s what you desire.” He slowly curled his fingers out as his grasp weakened. Bandu jittered. He nodded.
Keith was slightly jittering too. He sat down on his chair. He mentally created a new identity of who he was in his head. He exhaled his frustration. He said, “Tell me your plan. I don’t have all day.”
“Manipulation through loyal aggression,” Conley said.
“Speak normal words to me,” Keith said.
Conley said, “Robert loves people who are aggressive and loyal to him. Not people aggressive towards him. But people willing to be aggressive towards others to display their loyalty in front of Robert. Robert is a complicated individual, and from my experience at my job, I’ve been able to analyze his behavior somewhat. For instance, if a guard murders a misbehaving prisoner, Robert will smile, which he rarely does. If Robert could appreciate one of us as a guard, he could possibly accept us into his trusted few.”
“Trusted few?” Keith asked.
“The people he’s close with like General Wayne, Bandu, and Horace,” Conley said. “If we get in his circle, we could gain access to his Experimentation Room.”
“For what reason?” Keith asked again.
“Allow me to explain this fully. Once we have access, we can steal off some of Robert’s neuro-converters. We originally thought of asking Harry and Fabian to steal the neuro-converters but they seem tight in Robert’s circle.”
“Hold on!” Keith yelled. “I can’t let you explain something that makes zero sense. Neuro-converters . . . really? Those experimental machines are locked away for our own benefit.”
“Allow him to finish, Keith!” Zim yelled. “This plan is smarter than anything you could come up with.”
Conley continued. “With converters, we might stand a chance in a fight against Robert when the time does come. After hearing what Harry and Fabian were capable of doing to those animate plants, I see promise in those machines.”
Keith said, “You should see failure in them. For one, those converters turn you uncontrollable, and, two, they don't turn you invincible. All they do is manipulate your neurochemical state. The converters don’t offer any physical weaponry or anything to that assortment. Also! I already have access to the Experimentation Room! There’s a reason why I’ve never touched them! Many reasons! No, but I’m curious. Please continue this master-mindful plan of yours.”
Conley, Zim, and Bandu all looked annoyed. Bandu, especially. Conley said, “Bandu would basically put on a show for Robert during the Social Status Testing. Then—”
“What’s that?” Keith asked.
Zim said, “Robert messaged us that there will be a social status test for all the inmates inside the aquaritorium tomorrow night. You seriously are an old man. Conley, finish your plan.”
Conley said, “We expect there to be many inmates trying to rebel during the test, so we plan to have Bandu display exaggerated aggression and hostility against the inmates in front of Robert. Hopefully, Bandu would be able to join Robert’s trusted few. Once in, Bandu would steal the neuro-converters.”
“If granted access into the Experimentation Room,” Keith said. “Also if he is granted access into Robert’s ‘trusted circle’.”
“You know what?!” Bandu yelled. “We don’t need you! Right guys?!”
“You’ve done nothing but complain,” Zim said. “You won’t listen to our plan or offer any sort of insight. If we’re taking out Robert, I’m not listening to an old man like you. We’re gonna be our own kings. As a matter of fact, we’re done with old men telling the youth how to operate and behave.”
Conley nodded. Bandu said, “Let the youth prevail. Fuck you, Keith. Sorry, but we’re doing this without you.”
Before Keith could get a word of irritation out, they all ran out of his office and dispersed in disappearance. Keith was extremely irritated.
The next night arrived. Keith was in the Experimentation Room. Keith wanted to kill Robert, but he felt he didn’t have the balls to do it. He still wanted to kill him though. He was conflicted. He realized that the neuro-converters would resolve this conflict.
Clicking the green button, the rotating cylinder presented itself. The cylinder released its floating water sheet that displayed the 17 tabs. The first tab revealed “Neurotransmitter Converter.” The rest of the tabs displayed the following.
2. Posterior Parietal Cortex (PPC) Converter [Spatiotemporal Kit]
3. Dorsolateral Prefrontal Cortex (DLPFC) Converter [Spatiotemporal Kit]
4. Neural Lag Converter
5. Double Thought Converter
6. Neocortex Converter
7. Five Sense Converter
8. Thalamus Converter
9. Vestibular Gland Converter
10. Visual Cortex Converter
11. Hypothalamus Converter
12. Dorsal Laryngeal Motor Cortex (dLMC) Converter
13. Mental-Physical State Converter
14. Stimuli Inhibitor Converter
15. Ventromedial Prefrontal Cortex (VMPC) Converter
16. Brain Numbing Converter
17. Consciousness Inversion Converter
Keith was overwhelmed. He didn’t know what each converter’s function was because no descriptions were given. He wanted to change his mind. Maybe this was a bad idea. He was too far in the process already. He had to fully commit to saving himself and everybody else from Robert. He selected “Neurotransmitter Converter” since it was the first on the list, and after hearing what Harry and Fabian did, he felt this device would be the most beneficial for physical combat. He inputted #1 since the sheet asked how many converters he wanted. The converter came out of the cylinder. Keith picked it up. It felt lighter than he expected. He had no clue on how to insert it into his Hub. He couldn’t see his Hub either. He rubbed his right finger against his Hub and sensorially read the holes’ placement like braille. He was starting to sweat. He did know that the upper-left hole was for slot #1 just from prior general knowledge. He found the upper-left hole with his fingers.
Holding the neurotransmitter converter with his right hand, he inserted the key-end into the #1 hole. He was shuttering his eyes tightly in worried anticipation for pain. He turned over his wrist to see if his Navigator would display anything. It didn’t. He also didn’t feel pain.
Nothing was happening. He didn’t have time for nothing to work. He didn’t want people to see him in Robert’s Experimentation Room unaccounted for. He was upset and worried. He began twisting and shaking the neuro-converter frustrated that it wouldn’t work. He twisted it to the right, and the Navigator screen loaded. He let go of the converter and focused on his Navigator. Six knobs for six neurotransmitters appeared. Keith let out a nervous laugh, surprised at it working. He didn’t know which knob to twist. All he knew was that he wanted to kill Robert. He randomly twisted his dopamine to 75%. He felt an immediate spurt of happiness and aggression. He wasn’t worried now. He felt determined. He twisted acetylcholine to 80%. He started feeling brain zaps. His head shook while he couldn’t stop smiling. He felt a surge of strength. All of his past anxiety and depression had faded into aggressive happiness. He raised his norepinephrine to 86%. All of his muscles were pulsating. He felt crazier every knob he manipulated. He felt angrier. Saliva dripped down his lips. His body was shaking tremendously. He’d gone super manic. His muscles felt strong and weak simultaneously. Keith no longer had behavioral control over himself, which is what he wanted. Now he could charge at Robert without hesitancy.
Keith selected the “Posterior Parietal Cortex Converter” and the “Dorsolateral Prefrontal Cortex Converter” mindlessly. The cylinder opened the #2 slot first. The PPC converter had a similar design to the neurotransmitter converter but opposite of the key-end was a 2-inch-long, 2-inch-wide metal piece with graph lines on it. He had trouble inserting the converter into the #2 hole of his Hub since his hand shook too much. He managed to get it in. He twisted it to the right. A second tab on his Navigator appeared. He saw a description for the converter. It read the following:
Instructions: To use this converter, look around 360 degrees, trying to focus on the depth and field of objects. Once you’ve scanned your environment, you may close your eyes, and you will have complete memory and perception of the depth of your environment.
Keith exposed his teeth with each crooked smile he released while reading the description. He looked at his environment while spinning 360 degrees to test out the converter. He took note of the cylinder’s position and all of the desks in the room. He finished turning and closed his eyes. He had complete depth perception of where everything was. He could walk while knowing exactly where the cylinder and desks were. He reached his hand out and touched the cylinder with his eyes closed, knowing fully well he would. He opened his eyes back up and pulled out the DLPFC converter. This converter had the same design as the PPC converter except the metal piece’s art design was different from the graph lines and instead had a traditional clock emblem on it. He had a better time with inserting it into the #3 hole of his Hub. His Navigator revealed a new tab and instructions on how the converter worked. Two knobs appeared too. The description read the following:
Instructions: To use this converter, adjust the left knob to increase or decrease your reaction time speed. If you—
Keith had a neck spasm while reading. He ground his teeth. He continued reading.
If you adjust the right knob, your perception of time increases or decreases.
He decreased the left knob to have a reaction time of 0.0001 seconds. Visual information retained into his visual cortex felt almost like light-speed. The knob also displayed that he could now see in 10,000 frames per second as opposed to a normal 30-60 frames per second. He increased the right knob to 2.0X speed. He perceived time at double speed. He walked to witness this altered state of perception. His perception of the speed of time didn’t mean time itself sped up. It was just Keith’s perception. He tried 0.5X. Everything felt slow. However, he was given more time to think thoughts while his physical body moved slower. He moved the knob back to 1.0X. He selected the fourth tab, the “Neural Lag Converter,” from the water sheet. He picked up the converter from the cylinder. His vision began to feel blurry around his peripheral vision. The neural lag converter had the same design as all of the other ones except that the art on the metal-piece-end was a red and blue nerve sprawling in different directions. Keith got this converter into his #4 hole first try. It read the following:
To use this converter, adjust the knob to the time length to which you want to perceive no pain.
The knob was at zero. Keith adjusted the knob to the maximum, which was 5 minutes. Keith bit his right ring finger. His pain receptors didn’t react. He felt no pain. Additionally, he didn’t feel the pain of his muscle aches anymore. Keith smiled more crookedly. He adjusted the right knob of his DLPFC converter to 3.0X speed. He was tired of the long wait. He wanted Robert to be dead and over. He felt as if everything happened quicker. His physical actions seemed to move quicker than his perceptive thoughts. He felt he didn’t need to grab any more neuro-converters. He felt undeniably unstoppable. He ran out of the Experimentation Room. He evaded past Robert’s office successfully without anyone noticing him. A bit of diarrhea splattered in his pants. He continued running at 3.0X speed. He ran past the lobby and entered the cafeteria. No one was there as expected. Everyone was in the aquaritorium taking the Social Status Test. He walked to the end of the cafeteria and saw the door with the stairs that led down to the aquaritorium. Before he entered, he stopped. His logic of reasoning kicked in for once over his constant emotional repercussions. He needed to enter the aquaritorium from backstage so that no one would notice him. He left the cafeteria, lobby, and prison building entrance itself. He adjusted the right knob of his DLPFC converter back to 1.0X speed so that he could think clearer. He walked outside the prison building where the cafeteria could be seen through a window. There was a small fingerprint scanner on the outside wall. As chief of security, he had access to all fingerprint scanners. He scanned his finger, and the manure below him cut itself into a square. This manure square began to descend underground quickly. He rode the secret elevator. He was now 50 feet underground. A new manure square covered up the top opening to conceal the elevator. He looked at his neural lag converter to see how much time remained. Two minutes and 31 seconds. He regretted not starting the timer later. As Keith descended down to 100 feet, he had formulated a plan. He was emotionally stimulated, cognitively enhanced spatiotemporally, and receptively numb to pain. He was ready.
The elevator door opened quietly. Keith heard Robert say, “Three minutes remain.” Keith clenched his fists, and his legs trembled greatly. He saw General Wayne in white garments facing the opposite way, lying down on the ground. No one was backstage but Wayne. Keith silently poked his head out of the elevator door and turned to his right. He saw the enormous scale of the aquaritorium but only the right side of it. The aquaritorium was illuminated by one light on the glass ceiling. Keith grabbed his gun out of his right hip holster. He took ten steps until he was at the edge of the backstage exit, right next to the curtains. He poked his head out of the right-side curtains and scanned the depth of his environment. He noticed the guard’s standing positions on the sides, prisoners’ sitting positions, and Robert’s position. He got a blood rush to his head from looking at him.
He pointed his gun at the giant light above and shot it. Darkness filled the aquaritorium. A few screams occurred. Keith had complete awareness of where everything was still, assuming that people didn’t move since all objects were cognitively localized in his posterior parietal cortex. Keith dropped his gun and pulled out a knife from his left hip knife holster. Knowing Robert’s position, he charged in the night. He tackled Robert to the floor. Immediately, Keith felt Robert’s resistance. Robert yelled, “What the fuck!” While Keith screamed ferociously with happiness, he successfully put Robert in a submissive hold and stabbed his knife towards Robert’s head. The knife could only break skin. Keith was confused.
Robert laughed wittingly. “Titanium skull.” He galvanized his right hand and grabbed Keith’s left hand. Keith didn’t react to the burning metal. Robert tried to throw a punch with his left hand, but Keith immediately dodged it with his 0.0001-seconds reaction time. Keith, holding his knife in his right hand, chopped off Robert’s right arm. Molten titanium and blood splattered everywhere. Keith screamed in anger, and this time dug his knife towards Robert’s heart. It only broke skin again. Keith screamed louder as saliva droplets fell on his disintegrating bloody left hand. Robert laughed more weakly this time. “Titanium heart chamber.” Keith dug his knife in Robert’s gut. It cut through internal organs. Robert moaned loudly. His microphone captured his audio waves to all prisoners with earmuffs on. Robert tried a weaker attempt of a punch, but Keith easily dodged it. Keith pulled his knife out of Robert’s gut and slammed it into Robert’s head repeatedly. Stabbing and slamming the titanium skull with his knife, Keith felt as if the skull was beginning to crack. He smiled more and more with each crack he heard.
Keith yelled, “Eventually everyone cracks!” Robert was beginning to lose consciousness. Keith, about to deliver another blow, couldn’t bring his right hand down. He turned around and saw the face of Horace. Horace gripped Keith’s right hand and lifted his cane up in the air with his other hand. Keith noticed a difference with the cane. There was a blade at the end of it. Horace sliced off Keith’s head.
“I can’t hide the truth from you, Bobby. From what you’ve described to me, it seems you have developed an adult psychopathy personality.”
“I have what?”
“It is very common for psychopathy to arise more towards adulthood. Judging by your recent impulsivity, misunderstandings with others, and your apparent lack of empathy, it seems that your case is a later onset than most.”
“I’m already 29. I don’t feel like I fit any of that criteria.”
“That’s also common to think. Psychopaths tend to be egocentric.”
“I’m not a fucking psychopath. Fuck psychologists. All you guys do is expose the problem without providing a solution. Speaking of, is there even a cure to psychopathy?”
“Again, I’m afraid not. However, there are options to alleviate the suffering. I can put you on sertraline for the meantime to lower your impulsivity.”
“Why? So that you can stabilize my ‘condition’? Fuck you. I’m not suffering. There is nothing to alleviate. I’m a genius when it comes to understanding mental health. Psychologists don’t understand shit. For that matter, you don’t understand shit!”
“You may feel you’re not suffering, but from an outside perspective, you are. You need to take a deep breath, consider your options, and—”
“No! Shut the fuck up! I’ve developed an fMRI machine that can detect in real-time if I have any neurotransmitter abnormalities, and I didn't the last time I checked!”
“It’s too early for any scan to detect any change in neurotransmitter abnormality. You—”
“All that comes from your mouth is bullshit. Looking forward to seeing you never!”
***
“How are you doing, Bobby?”
“Good, Howard.”
“Wanna hear some good news?”
“What is it?”
“The government may potentially fund us. The U.S. government!”
“That’s good to hear.”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: MAXWELL RUTANO
It was dark. It was loud. It was chaos.
Max couldn’t see a thing except for the faint lights that illuminated from the guard’s helmets. Max had finished his test, and his dividers were down. It was so loud that he could hear through his earmuffs. He no longer heard Robert talk from his earmuffs. He heard muffled screams and gunshots. Max was #8081 of Prison Rotation E. He had spotted where his father sat before the test had ended. He was scared, yet he realized this could be the only possible time to reunite with him. The headgear gadget had detached since he finished his test, so he could move freely. Guards on the aisle next to him sprinted down the stairs towards the main stage of the aquaritorium.
Max tried to get out of his seat but was too scared. Some people seated in front of him tried bum-rushing guards with their fists. Some people were still in the middle of the tests, so their dividers blocked them. Max heard a loud crackling sound to his left. There was nothing to his left side but the aisle. He looked up.
The glass ceiling had cracked, and water flooded in rapidly. The water reached the aisle, and a new waterfall formed from a following crack in the ceiling. The waterfall splashed on Max and other people surrounding him. The water carried him down the aisle stairs. The water’s force pushed his earmuffs off. His body tossed and turned over stairs, and several of his vertebrochondral ribs broke. The water finally stopped pushing him. The gunshots and screams were even louder now. He couldn’t get up. He heard people yelling things like “this will be the only time to rebel,” “everybody fight,” and “escape.” Max set his route for his father. Max cried as he struggled to run down the stairs in the dark.
He tripped. He fell on his face, heavily impacting his jaw. He looked up again and saw an even bigger crack grow in length. The new waterfall made its way down as Max dove to the side where all the seats were. His vision slowly adjusted to the darkness. He could make out faces now. He rose and looked down the bottom third of the aquaritorium. Dozens of guard’s lights flashed on the main stage while some lights moved with the rapids of the water. He spotted his father again. He whimpered in anxiety. He heard a loud stomp to his left. Directing his attention to the sound, he saw a light shine on his face. A gun was pointed at him too. The guard, standing in the aisle, yelled, “Follow me or I'll shoot you!” Max couldn’t move. He had to reunite with his father. There was no other way in his mind. A crack above this guard formed a new waterfall and battered him down the stairs.
This was Max’s chance. Before he made any moves, he saw an inmate stuck in his seat struggling to breathe air out of his test dividers. He was drowning from a slightly-leaking waterfall above him. Max wanted to help him. He climbed over the necessary seats to reach him and situated himself above the test divider pool. The inmate’s hand only touched air. Max grabbed his hand and tried to pull him out. The inmate wouldn’t budge. The headgear had his head locked in place still since he was in the testing phase. Max cried. He wanted to save him but couldn’t. He yelled, “I’m sorry!” The man screamed underwater. Max let go of the inmate’s life and proceeded towards his father. He was on the 10th row from the main stage. His father stood in stillness looking at the main stage.
Max yelled, “Dad!” Tears streamed down his face. He got down the ninth and eighth rows. His father turned around. His eyes widened.
His father yelled, “Max!” Seventh and sixth row down. A crack, the length of an entire row, formed above Max. A wall of water shielded his father and the entire main stage. Max screamed and stopped on the fifth row. The water’s power was too dangerous for Max to burrow through. His chance ended. He could only turn back now. There were almost twenty waterfalls spewing from the ceiling. Max planned a route to the exit. Climb up the 30th’s middle row, climb up the left aisle, climb up the middle-ish right of the 70th, and climb up the left aisle to the exit. Max worried if his father died. He couldn’t have since Max survived those waterfalls, yet this waterfall was the biggest and most powerful. Max’s worry over his own survivalism kicked in more. He focused back on his route. The inmate he had tried to save was dead. Max forced himself to look away. His guilt couldn’t look away though. As he climbed up the seats, he perceptively grasped more of what was going on around him. A herd of about 60 prisoners fought against an assembly of illuminated guards on the left aisle next to the 30th row. Guards sprayed their rifles like hoses. Prisoners dropped dead like flies. Every few seats or so, Max saw a dead prisoner or guard. More dead prisoners than guards.
Max was on the 30th row now. He needed to get up the aisle, but the prisoner-guard brawl blocked his way. He changed course and turned right where a waterfall poured. He dove through this waterfall and fell in the right aisle. He saw three guards in close proximity in front of him. He didn’t know if a guard would either escort or kill him. He avoided their streams of light and crawled past them. He sprinted up the aisle stairs. A huge waterfall blocked his path around the 60th row. He attempted to dive through it, yet its force pushed him into a tumble. He dropped to the 55th row. More of his ribs cracked. He couldn’t get up anymore. He cried in pain.
Max felt himself being picked up. A bright light slightly blinded his eyes. A guard had picked Max up. Not knowing if this guard would kill him or not, Max tried to resist. The guard yelled, “Stop! I’m here to save you.” Max was too hurt and exhausted to fight back. The guard carried him like a baby and began to run to the left of the 55th row. There were fewer screams due to more people having escaped or died. Max passed out.
He awoke in his jail cell bed. His bed covers were kicked to the floor. His eyelids couldn’t cover his eyes any longer. He saw a millisecond-long vision of his father as his perception widened. He tried to get up, but his injured ribs stopped his motor movement.
On the other side of his prison cell doors was the guard who saved him. The guard was in a crouching position. The guard said, “My name’s Lee.”
Max started to cry from pain and guilt. “Why did you save me?! You should’ve let me die! I don’t deserve to be alive!”
“Hey, hey, hey, relax kid. Don’t speak such harsh words about yourself,” Lee said.
Max grabbed his pillow and stuffed it in his face. “Someone died because of me.” Drool and tears painted the pillow a darker shade around his facial area. “And my father is most likely dead.”
“Your father lived. And don’t let guilt eat you up. You’re just a sweet little kid. There was nothing you could do in that situation,” Lee said.
“Exactly! I’m just a little kid who can’t do shit.” Max lifted the pillow from his face as mucus strings disconnected. “Why are you still here?”
“Lighten up a little that your father survived. He—”
“Why should I?! Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter if I’m never gonna see him!”
“I can completely understand your frustration. You just need time to process—”
“Again! Who are you?! Why are you acting all nice to me?!”
“Just know that you have someone looking out for you.”
Max stuffed the pillow in his face again and relaxed all muscles. “Fine. I give up arguing since that gets me nowhere.”
A small pause occurred. Lee asked, “Is that a wooden flute?” Max didn’t respond. “Because I technically would have to confiscate any item that could pose as a weapon,” Lee said. “That being said—”
“Go ahead and take the only item I have.”
“That being said . . . I won’t, and I’m curious. Where’d you get this?”
Max was no longer sobbing. “I didn’t find it. My friend made it for me.”
“How? There aren’t any resources to craft an item with such detail.”
“My friend, Sawostick. He’s an animate plant. He molded the wood from his own body and severed a part of himself for this flute.” Max put the pillow away from his face and looked at Lee.
“He seems like he cares deeply for you to do something like that. He’s always by your side whether he’s dead or alive. That’s something you should definitely appreciate. I know I would if I was you.”
Max’s head felt a bit more clear. He took a deep breath. “Thanks for saving my life.”
Lee stood up. “You’re welcome. Do you know how to play that flute of yours?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be your audience.”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll be your audience. Play it. I’m all ears.”
His wooden flute was right next to his bedside. Max picked it up. “You don’t understand what it’s like to have everything taken away from you. This flute is the only sense of something that I have.” Max closed his eyes and began to play his flute. Harmonious vibrations traveled to Lee’s auditory cortex. As each note came out, Max’s desire to tear up increased. By the fourth measure, a tear dropped on the third hole of his flute. His finger almost slipped, but the melody still persisted forward.
He opened his eyes and saw four other guards huddled around Lee. They seemed to adore his playing. Max closed his eyes again and let his brain enter a rhythm state. Over 32 measures in, the prison intercom noise spliced Max’s temporary rhythmic nirvana. He opened his eyes and stopped playing. His cheeks were moist.
Being the only guard who teared up, Lee said, “That was beautiful, Max.” The four guards around Lee nodded.
The intercom said, “Rotate.” Max’s jail cell opened.
One of the four guards looked at Lee and changed his facial expression. He said, “Why the fuck are you crying? You’re soft as a fucking teddy bear.” He jolted his hand down and snatched Lee’s body up by the arm. “Don’t forget where you are. This isn’t a fucking concert!” The other three guards assimilated with the fourth guard’s facial expression. They nodded along.
Lee wiped the tears from his face and fixed his posture. “I—I—I’m sorry. I won’t again.” He assimilated with their facial expressions. He turned to Max and yelled, “You deaf to the intercom?! Out of your bed! Come on!”
Max was confused by Lee’s immediate assimilation. His sudden disregard to human emotion saddened Max. More so, it terrified him. He said, “Don’t you remember my ribs hurt! I can’t get up!”
“Then I’ll force you.” Lee approached Max and pulled him out of his bed by his right arm. Max’s body lunged forward. He felt an abnormal sensation in his ribs. A painful one. Max yelled in pain. Lee used his other arm to guide Max’s back up. Lee pushed him forward out of the jail cell. The other four guards maintained their facial expression: emotionless.
Still holding his flute in his left hand, Max yelled, “Why’d you change behavior all of a sudden?! Are you the same as every guard here?!”
“Silence!” Lee yelled. He continued to push him down the aisle where the rest of the first-floor jail cells were. He guided Max’s movement but with brute force and speed. The four other guards followed directly behind Max.
Max yelled, “What happened to your tears?! What happened to your interest in my flute?! What happened to your personality?! What happened—”
Lee yelled, “One more word! One more word and I’m cutting open your ribcage and pulling out every last rib one by one!”
As the gatekeeper of neuronal impulses to the pons, Max’s cerebellum was fully flooded with neuronal impulses signaling him to cry. Max sobbed uncontrollably. This part of his brain was unlocked in its entirety.
Lee walked quicker and pushed Max harder. Max’s vision was a wet blob of gray. The whole prison felt this way to him, vision or no vision.
They arrived at the manure field. Lee let go of Max and shoved him forward into the crowd of inmates. One of the guards yelled, “Assimilate!”
Max’s ribs hurt too much to walk by himself. He didn’t feel like moving. An inmate, wearing white garments, as every other inmate wore, turned around to Max. The man saw the weak-abled, feeble, sad body of Max. Max had his right hand over his ribs.
The man asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” Max said.
The man said, “Oh.” He turned away from Max and dissipated back into the crowd.
Max heard a scream behind him and turned around. It came from an animate plant. One of the guards who had originally followed Lee twisted the plant’s right wooden arm into a knot. Lee was nowhere in sight.
Max couldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand why no one helped anyone. He didn’t understand how these people’s minds operated.
He took his right hand away from his ribs and tightened his fists. He ingested his pain. He couldn’t handle the pain of others. His tears lowered in pH to sweat. He took step after step. Before his vocal cords could emit sound, an animate plant grabbed Max by his left shoulder. It was Sawostick.
He said, “Don’t.”
Max’s spurt of anger quickly eradicated. “Why is nobody doing anything? He wanted to cry again.
“You can’t expect someone to do anything if their spirit’s been broken.” Sawostick wrapped his right wooden arm around Max. The guard tore off the animate plant’s knotted right arm. “There’s nothing we can do now. But that doesn’t mean we can’t help bring change in the future.”
Max’s emotional balance scale between sadness and anger kept swaying. “But why can’t we help now? If we wait, more and more people end up suffering.”
“Because we would die if we tried to do anything radical. If you’re so adamant about helping people, which I know you are, then consider your own life first.” Max looked at Sawostick. Max always thought of him as a big brother. “All things considered, be happy the flute’s with you.”
“I guess you’re right.” Max wiped off the tears and sweat from his face with his right hand. He lifted up his left hand. “You’re gonna have to help me walk to our spot.”
Sawostick said, “You keep forgetting how strong I really am. I’ll carry you.” He picked Max up, giving his ribs a break. Max shut his eyes to cherish a brief moment of relaxation while his body bounced to every step Sawostick took. The screams of the animate plant faded away. A few moments passed. “We’re here.”
Max opened his eyes. He saw Roota. She was an animate plant who was originally friends with Sawostick. She then befriended Max. Due to animate plants physically aging quicker than humans, Sawostick and Roota were technically the same age as him, but they behaved wiser and older. They were at their usual spot next to the curved metal fence. Sawostick set Max down. Roota had her left arm shape-shifted into a harp. Wooden thread spools acted as strings. Sawostick played the drums, yet he didn’t have a wooden instrument to perform. Instead, he used his wooden arms and banged whatever object near him he found suitable. Reminiscing about all the old times they played together, Max cheered up a bit. He enjoyed playing with them. Music was his way of mentally escaping the prison.
Sawostick said, “Hey, Roota. Is your sickness getting better?”
“No,” she said. “I've still had trouble breathing, and I don’t have all my energy back yet.” She saw Max’s grimacing face. “Is everything alright with you, Max?”
“No. But that’s alright,” Max said. He raised his flute. “Wanna play?”
Roota nodded. Sawostick said, “Let’s do this. And a 1-2-3-4!”
Sawostick banged his wooden arms on a pole of the metal fence. Roota strummed her harp harmonically. Max puckered his lips as air escaped from the tiny crater of his mouth. Their music-playing tended to gather small audiences as they got into their third or fourth song. Their melodies were originally crafted from their minds. They strived for originality. Sawostick and Roota each had their eyes closed, lost in the music. Before Max closed his, he wanted to visually admire the flowers as he did every time they played. He noticed the usual beauty of the light-green bioluminescent flowers had been decaying. They stood shorter.
Max squinted his eyes open. He heard a nearby footstep over their music. It was the same man. The man who had said “Oh.” Their music stopped. The man snatched Max’s flute away. He snapped it into two.
Max’s emotional balance scale immediately dropped to anger. He poorly punched the man in the jaw with his right hand. The man barely flinched. Max screamed, “When will you people die?! Why do you do this to us?!”
The man lifted Max’s right arm to the point where Max’s feet weren’t touching the floor. The man used his other hand to snap Max’s right arm perpendicular to how his elbow would normally bend. Max couldn’t breathe. The man let go of his arm, and Max fell to the floor. The man stomped on Max’s ribcage. The man asked, “What’s wrong?” Max’s right arm had gone numb. All of his pain receptors were ignited in his ribcage. He couldn’t scream with his vocal cords. He only screamed out in breath. All of his muscles were convulsing. His entire nervous system felt like it was beginning to shut down.
An unexpected fist let fly. The man was proficiently punched in the jaw. He fell to the floor. Max could barely see this other man. This other man yelled, “What’s wrong with you?! Who the fuck beats up a kid?! You fucking animal!” He repeatedly punched the man in the face. Splashes of blood landed on Max’s eyelashes. Max saw a womanly figure towards his periphery. This other man got up close to Max’s visual field. “You okay, buddy?! Someone get a cloth or something to stop the bleeding!” The womanly figure got up close too.
It was Harriet. She had the number #9991 ingrained on her Hub. She said, “Max?! Max! Who would do something like this to you?! You’re gonna be alright! Don’t worry!” She brought out a white towel and padded it on Max’s ribs. She shed a few tears. Max’s vision slowly grew fuzzier.
Sawostick yelled, “A towel’s not gonna do anything! His bleeding is internal! He needs real medical help!”
“There’s no medical help in a prison!” the other man said. Their voices slowly grew quieter.
Roota said, “I may have a solution. I can shape-shift my way into his body. I’d have to stick my arm down his mouth and stretch down to his ribs. I could use my fibrous leaves to possibly lessen the flow of his internal bleeding.”
Harriet said, “That’s not how the gastrointestinal system works. You can’t shape-shift down to his ribs. You’d need to sever internal organs to reach his skeletal system.”
“No I can still do it,” Roota said. Max’s noiseless screams stopped emanating. He lost consciousness.
He woke up. He now felt the pain of his broken right arm. The pain in his ribs hurt even more. The perception of his pain fluctuated as his wakefulness increased. His scream had a voice this time. He was propped up to the metal fence. He saw Sawostick, Roota, Harriet, and the nameless man huddled around him.
Harriet's eyes lightened up. “My God! He’s awake! Max, I know that—” Max’s scream postponed her message. “I know your pain is immeasurable, but Roota was able to stop the internal bleeding. She’s gonna try and help with the pain in your broken arm next. Focus on your breathing.” Max breathed through his screams.
“My name’s Terry, by the way,” the nameless man said, looking at Max’s broken arm. He had the number #9992 ingrained on his Hub. He wore glasses with green frames. “Listen to what Harriet said.”
Max tried to focus on his breathing. He tried to hold in his screams.
Sawostick looked at Terry. “Thanks so much again for stopping that neuro-degenerate. What’s seriously wrong with some of these people?”
Terry said, “Some people aren’t meant to be born.”
“Not exactly true,” Harriet said. “The man could’ve been depleted on Dopamine Coins. Any major change in neurotransmitter level can seriously demolish someone’s neurophysiological state. So he’s not entirely to blame.”
Sawostick said, “I don’t care how mentally fucked someone’s neuro-whatever could be. There’s no excuse for beating up an innocent child. He deserved every punch.”
Terry nodded. He said, “I’m astonished that no guards interfered in our brawl.”
“I’m not,” Sawostick said. “They treat us like animals. They don’t care if we kill each other. Their only job is to keep us in.”
Max let out a scream. He had trouble maintaining his breathing.
Terry yelled, “Man, fuck this place! This is a living hell!”
“Don’t agitate him,” Harriet said. “He’s under a lot of pain. Let’s change the subject.” A pause. “Roota, what you did with your healing powers was magnificent. How did you manage to pull that off?”
Roota said, “My fibers can grow thinner than the size of a human pore. I, therefore, can shape-shift my way into any bodily system without severing any organs. I enlarged my fibers around his veins and arteries adjacent to his ribs. However, I don’t think I can do anything about his arm. I can’t numb nerves.”
The intercom noise went off. “All animate plants! Please report immediately to the infirmary!”
“I won’t go through with it. I have to tell them, Bobby. What you have discovered is an extreme invasion of someone’s mental privacy. It has the potential to help people, but I see it more as a threat to humanity.”
“Dr. Aushteiv. Come on. Please don’t tell anyone. With a neuropsychodynamic mass-energy oscillatory hohlraum, we would be able to fix anyone’s psychological problems. Isn’t that what our original plan was when we partnered together. We both said we wanted to eliminate all suffering in the world of mental health. And with speed too. We’ve done research for almost 15 years together now. Don’t ruin our chance of saving the world.”
“I told you before, Bobby. It can save the world. But more importantly, it can destroy lives. It can do more than that. It could allow anyone to control and tinker one’s mind to their liking. It’s too extreme for the human species. If this sort of technology fell into the wrong hands, they could lead armies of people with mind control. Not only mind control. But the ability to change any components of their id, ego, or superego.”
“So you’re stubborn to the idea?”
“Yes, Bobby. I’m sorry. I have to tell them. Carrying information around like this is too heavy and dangerous.”
“Dr. Aushteiv. I’ve known you since high school. We’ve gotten to know each other over the years. We bonded and we grew closer as friends day by day. And—”
“I agree, Bobby. I’ve enjoyed every moment of research with you. I always like to stick around when there’s a genius around. However, I’ve seen change in you over the years. To be frank, you’ve become more volatile in behavior, and it’s gotten to the point where I’ve begun to worry about you. I miss the old Bobby. The Bobby who was excited when he made a new achievement in research. The Bobby who would be excited to learn new laws of physics. The Bobby that smiled, respected, and took the time to follow my lead. Not the Bobby that has become detached. I feel you’ve gone astray mentally dating back a few years ago. And once again, I worry for you.”
“You miss the old me? Dr. Aushteiv, what are you talking about? I’ve always been the same. You can trust me.”
“I’m sorry, Bobby. I can’t keep this a secret.”
“It’s no secret that everyone around the lab hates you. In fact, I hate you more than all of them.”
“Bobby. Please get out of my way.”
“I’ve always hated you. You annoying old piece of fucking filth.”
“What are you doing?!”
“Eliminating your suffering!”
“Let go of my neck, pl—pl—please!”
“I’m sorry. I can’t”
“KHAAA—”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ROBERT RUTANO
Robert woke up. He lay on a TinkerBot in his office. Thom, Horace, Zim, Conley, and Bandu were huddled around him. He had trouble feeling. He opened up both of his palms. His right palm was now robotic, as was his entire right arm. The arm was made of titanium. A galvanic titanium stimulator chamber was also implanted in his titanium arm, and this time it wasn’t concealed. The entire crown of his head was wrapped with bandages, as was his whole chest area.
Horace said, “The Bot’s got you on many painkillers as of now. Your titanium skull and heart chambers were partially fractured.”
“How did I live?” Robert asked. “Who stopped Keith?”
Horace said, “The visual cortex converter . . . saved your life. I managed to sense Keith in the dark. More importantly, I got bigger news.”
“Why—” He coughed. “Why wasn’t Thom there to stop him?” Robert stared at Thom lethargically.
Thom displayed fear but didn’t show it. He said, “I wasn’t told about the Social Status Testing.”
Robert’s dilator naris muscles near his nose contracted upwards without revealing his teeth. His stare dictated a change in energy. “You weren’t told? I wasn’t told to survive this ambush. Nor was I told by my bodyguard he would be absent during supposedly the most prominent time for a surprise attack.” Thom’s shoulders tensed up.
Thom said, “I’m sorry. Look, I know I fucked up, but just know that I won’t mess things up next time.”
Robert said, “There won’t be a next time. Fate chose me over you. If I had died, you would’ve lived. But I’m sorry. I don’t control fate’s game.” Robert ignited his new galvanic stimulator and galvanized his metallic right hand. He spewed out liquid titanium at Thom’s face.
As his screams were muffled, Thom fell to the floor and involuntarily slapped his hands over his face. More titanium drenched his hands and face. His body oscillated all over the place. Robert cut the titanium flow. Thom moved less and less as his air circulation was cut. Robert stopped directing his attention to this sight. Zim, Conley, and Bandu had stepped back from the body whose heart would stop beating in about 20 seconds. Robert asked, “So what’s the bigger news, Horace?”
Horace, who never directed his attention to the sight of Thom, leaned closer to Robert. “The animate plant and human cross-breeding transpired. You told me to initiate the go-ahead once the ‘infirmary’ was fully constructed.” Thom’s body lay motionless.
Robert jolted his posture forward. “How’d it go?”
“It worked out. However, there was a minor problem in which a Sentinel soldier, named Lee Harvey, escaped with an animate plant concubine. Don’t get too worked up about it. I’ve ordered Harry to lead a search team to find them.”
“I don’t care about one fucking guard,” Robert said. “Tell me how many prisoners survived.”
“6,186.”
“What a fucking disaster.” Robert fell back into the mattress. “None of this should’ve happened. I should’ve twisted his neck the first infraction he made!” Robert inhaled and scanned the other three men in the huddle. “Why are you three here?
Horace said, “You wouldn’t be here without them. They safely evacuated you out of the aquaritorium.”
Robert rubbed his eyes. “Really?” He looked into the eyes of Bandu. Bandu switched focus from Thom’s body to Robert. “I can admire that. I don’t admire the fact that you three couldn’t sense Keith’s irritation towards me. If you had been more perceptive of your superior, you could’ve let me know, and we could’ve avoided this entire incident.” The three glanced at each other.
Bandu swallowed air. He said, “We had no idea. We always took Keith to be a strict but efficient chief. We never could’ve seen this coming.”
Zim said, “To pardon ourselves for not envisioning this incident, we would like to ask you if we could be by your side at all times to steer clear of any future threats that may be against you.” Conley nodded affirmingly, staring at Thom’s body.
Robert half-smiled. “Quite a proposal. So you all wish to take on the job of that man down there?” He pointed at Thom. “I’m flattered. I’m more than happy to give up this recent job opening for you three. Be aware of the stakes, of course.”
“We accept,” Zim said.
Robert rested his robot arm back on his bed. “It seems most appropriate that I get you all up to speed with what’s truly going on then. Can you three be entrusted? Or will you end up like a Thom or a Keith?”
Bandu said, “You can trust us with your life. And it’s your judgment too. If you want to use us as target practice, we would be delighted. We are your loyal slaves.”
Robert jumped off the TinkerBot. He ignored the pain. “You mind if I run a little test then?” Bandu nodded half-willingly. “Horace, can you hand me the device that was implanted in Thom’s back?” Horace nodded. He crouched and took off Thom’s shirt. A device stuck on the lower part of Thom’s spine. The size of a hole a thumb and pointer finger create when touching each other, the device reflected the same 3D structure as a subterrene but with a flat surface sticking to his back. The sharp-end faced away from his back. “If any of you backstab me literally and figuratively, you will literally be backstabbed. I call it the Backstabber. Was never really good with creative names. The blade will pierce when I give it the signal.” Horace ripped it off Thom’s back. Bloody pieces of ripped skin stuck to the sticky flat-end of the Backstabber. “I believe Bandu was the most determined to take on this job. He can be the first to utilize this device. The TinkerBot can easily stick it onto your back with a thermo-silicon adhesive.”
Bandu’s spine bounced up and down in posture. “Yeah . . . I’ll be the first.”
“So please lay on your stomach on the Tinkerbot. It’s a very similar process to the installment of your Navigators.”
Bandu nodded hesitantly. He got on the TinkerBot. The Bot locked him in place with an enwrapping belt along his torso. The Bot released its cables from the right side of the mattress. A cable arm and glue stick cable appeared. Horace handed the Backstabber to the cable arm. Another cable arm popped out and picked off the bloody pieces of skin from the Backstabber’s flat-end. It then raised Bandu’s shirt up to his armpits. Bandu began to shake his tender back. The glue stick discharged the thermo-silicon adhesive on the flat-end. The cable arm placed the burning metallic flat-end on Bandu’s back. He jolted his back back and screamed as the glue burned off his spinal skin. The belt disappeared and so did the cables. Bandu tried to reach for his back to cool off the steaming glue. He yelled, “I’m done, right?! This fucking hurts!” Bandu jumped off the TinkerBot.
Robert nodded. “Horace, remind me to create two more Backstabbers for Zim and Conley.” Robert added this reminder to his oscillatory thought log. Fixing his posture, he walked over to Bandu. “You’re officially my bodyguard.” He was up to Bandu’s face now. He grabbed Bandu’s shirt collar with his robotic arm. “You’re not gonna be like Thom, right?! I slowly began to take a liking towards him. But guilty as charged.” Robert laughed. He let go of his collar. “Horace . . . tell me something.”
Horace said, “Yes, Monarch.”
“I—” Robert heard footsteps. He turned around. It was Gordin and General Wayne. Gordin had his eyes locked on Robert as he walked.
Gordin said, “I can’t believe it! You’re standing! You’ve recovered quicker than I expected. As it turns out, General Wayne suggested checking in on your condition.” As Gordin got closer, he devoted his eyes away from Robert. He saw Thom’s dead body behind the TinkerBot. Gordin’s poised look degraded to anxiety.
Robert said, “General Wayne, how is your memory doing?”
Gordin asked, “What happened?” Robert disregarded his concern.
General Wayne noticed the body. He said, “You’re not gonna tell us what happened?” Robert forcibly switched gears to Gordin’s original concern.
Robert said, “Fate had chosen me over him.” Gordin analyzed the missing piece of skin on Thom’s back. “He was a mistake from the start. A fat piece of shit who slept on the job. And he almost cost me my life.”
General Wayne asked, “What happened?”
Robert said, “I fucking told you already.”
“What happened to you specifically?”
“You know what happened.”
“I don’t remember.”
Robert paused. “I would expect you to not remember your past life, but you witnessed this incident in your new life. The memories of your past life will come to you with time. Have you lost all of your crystallized intelligence?”
General Wayne spoke emphatically. “I feel like myself. However, I forgot all about my goals and motivations I had in the past. I’ve lost my sense of purpose. I fucking hate being confused.” His voice loudened. “Robert! Tell me! Why am I alive?! Why did you bring me back?! What were we planning to accomplish?!” Wayne had his hands on Robert’s shoulders. “A life without purpose is a life not worth living!”
Robert said, “I can give you a mental refresher. I resurrected you so that we could fulfill what we originally had planned. To rule a kingdom side-by-side.”
Wayne clenched onto Robert’s shoulders tighter. “I know myself, and that doesn’t sound like something you’d say.”
“You shouldn’t be one to make judgements. Consider the fact that you are still going through a memory metamorphosis. You don’t know yourself. It’s only an impression. Memories make up a person. Not assumptions and inferences.” Robert stared into Wayne’s blank soul. “Now get your hands off me.”
General Wayne reserved his hands back. He calmed down his voice. “So it’s true? We’re gonna rule an empire together?”
“Of course,” Robert said. “You probably don’t remember, but we were best buddies in high school. We both made so many sacrifices to get to where we are now. You physically sacrificed your body for us. It was commendable, and you wouldn’t remember that either.”
Wayne began to cry. “All I remember is being in an eternal plane of empty darkness.” He hugged Robert.
Robert tried to accept the hug. “You have every right to be terrified. Most importantly, you should let me handle everything from here on out. You’ve done more than enough. The last thing I need you to do is to give the go-ahead of installing Hubs for your Myriad. You just need rest until all of your memories return”
“Thank you.” Wayne breathed out. “Hubs? Myriad?”
Robert said, “The Myriad are your soldiers. We require Hubs out of everyone who will live in the kingdom of ours.”
General Wayne said, “I don’t know anything about that. Gordin has been handling all that business.”
“Well then. You can have Gordin tell them for you then.”
“Okay. Yeah I can do that.”
Gordin made himself more noticeable to Robert. “I’ve taken complete control over the Myriad until General Wayne recovers. What’s this you’re talking about regarding Hubs?”
“It’s a requirement,” Robert said. “General Wayne is on board so it will be your job to inform Myriad to comply.”
Gordin said, “What’s the purpose of having Hubs? Don’t the Sentinel have them already? I thought we had enough neuro-enhanced guards.”
“Don’t argue with me,” Robert said. “General Wayne is your superior, so you will comply, and the Myriad will further comply.” Robert stood closer to Gordin. “Anyway . . . please tell me where we stand with numbers with the Myriad.”
Gordin said, “We lost around a fourth of our men, but I heard the Sentinel suffered greater numbers.”
Bandu said, “So you guys lost around 250 men?” Gordin nodded.
Horace chimed in. “The Sentinel lost 869 men to be exact. Something not to be proud of.”
“Fuck!” Robert yelled. “I hadn’t realized we lost that many men. Goddamn that Keith son-of-a-bitch!”
Gordin crouched next to Thom’s body. “Hey,” Gordin said. “Random question. Why is Thom’s body missing a piece of skin there?”
Robert yelled, “Get the fuck out, Gordin!”
Gordin asked, “Why? What’d I do wrong?”
Robert said, “Everyone in this room did something wrong! I did something wrong! You did something wrong! Go back to your office and figure out preventatives to stop being wrong in the future.”
Gordin asked, “Why do you only desire that I leave though?”
“You wanna know why?!” Robert yelled. “It’s because you’re a fucking neurotic! Lend me a break one time!”
General Wayne said, “Robert, I don’t remember you being like this. I sense you’ve changed since I died.”
Robert said, “Well, maybe you don’t remember the old me then. Do me a favor, and get some rest until you’ve regained your memory.” He pointed to his office door. “I want you and Gordin out of here!”
Gordin matched Wayne’s look of distaste towards Robert. Gordin rose from the ground and attempted a poised walk towards Robert. He tilted his head and studied Robert. “What else do you have planned that we aren’t aware of? There’s something you’re not telling us.”
Robert said, “Your head’s off-center. My only plan is the plan I told you both. I don’t need to further explain myself.”
Gordin said, “What, that you’re going to rule a ‘kingdom’? I find that whole Social Status Test a load of horseshit! I find belief in the fact that you’re engaging yourself in something much more astronomical. Something far more complex.”
Robert said, “Believe what you want to believe. Regardless, you’re obligated to take heed of my command.” He lifted his robotic arm and released steam from the galvanic chamber stimulator. “Do I need to ask twice?” Gordin’s lips overlapped each other. His attempt at being poised became a failure. He nodded.
Wayne said, “Okay. We’ll leave.” Robert’s spine arched the most out of everyone in the room. Robert put his robotic arm down.
Wayne walked through the office door. Gordin followed. As he walked out of the room without poise, Gordin’s eyes were locked on Robert. They were gone.
Robert’s robotic arm was shaking. So was the rest of his body. His left arm clung onto his robotic arm. Both of his arms shared vibrations. They shook intermittently. He stared at Thom’s dead body. He bit his bottom lip and began to punch Thom’s head repeatedly. He screamed in fury as he cracked the skull. Blood got caught between the titanium tendons of his arm. Thom’s brain was exposed. He punched harder and harder. He stomped on his cranium. Thom’s head splattered all over the floor. Robert yelled, “I’m the one who’s winning this game!” He galvanized his hand and spewed titanium over the lake of blood. The blood mixed with the liquid titanium. Blood steamed.
He got up. He breathed in deeply. He looked at the lookers. He said, “It’s time I truly tell you all what’s really going to happen.”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: LEAFLET
Leaflet was an animate plant concubine. She was assigned to mate with Sentinel soldier Lee Harvey in the Cross-Breeding Quarters, which was originally prefaced as the infirmary. They both escaped together.
Leaflet and Lee hid on the fourth floor of an empty building in the reservation city. They crouched beneath a window. A sliver of brightness filled up the room. Leaflet’s breath panted quicker than her heartbeat.
Leaflet asked, “Are we safe?”
“I think so,” Lee said. “For now.”
“Well, how long will ‘now’ last us?”
Lee hugged her. “Try not to worry. I’m here to protect you no matter what happens.”
She attempted to smile at him. “When’s the baby expected to come?”
“Horace told us within the next four hours.”
“How many hours has it been?”
“Two.”
“How are we able to cross-breed species?”
“We were all injected with something before we began the mating process. I have no clue what it was.”
“Should I be worried? What if our baby isn’t meant to be born? What if I bore a monster? Isn’t this what Robert would want from this whole cross-breeding scheme?”
“Robert never alerted the Sentinel about any of his plans. He only told us what to do at any given moment. Don’t worry about it. It’s the parents that dictate a baby’s future. No one is born a monster. That’s not how nature works.”
“But what if our baby doesn’t work with nature?”
Lee wrapped his shoulder around her. “You’re thinking too much. Just know how much I love you.”
Leaflet hugged him tighter. “I love you too.” Lee placed his lips on the bristles of her largely-proportioned venus-flytrap mouth. Her mouth sucked onto his cheeks while they kissed. They expressed their love freely.
Leaflet stopped kissing. She said, “What’s the point?”
“Of what?”
“Of this. What’s the point of being together if it’ll only last a few moments? We can be killed at any moment.”
“It doesn’t matter the time we live. All that matters is the experience we live. Even if our love lasts a few minutes, that’s okay. Death is an imminent unknown. Love is a known force. We can only perceive what we know, and, therefore, we should appreciate this force.”
Leaflet sobbed. “It’s the unknown that scares me. It can strike at any time, and I wish I knew when.”
“Fear is a known too. Love is stronger. Me. You. We’re both stronger than the unknown.”
“How can you maintain yourself? Why did you, of all guards, decide to escape with an animate plant? Why did I, of all animate plants, decide to escape with a human? Were we so hooked on the idea of love that we lost all sense of rationality?”
“We were the only rational ones. Everyone there is going to die because of Robert. I can sense his radiating evil. He’s a time bomb. He’s mentally sick. Fucked in the head. Beyond that, if no one stops him, the human race will most likely come to an end.”
Leaflet rested her head on his shoulder. “Why must everyone suffer so much? How can one man inhibit so much pain unto others?”
“A summation of too much suffering. No empathy. The only way to handle pain is by inflicting it on others. Every guard is mentally forced to adopt this behavior.”
“Reason why I love you. You’re so wise and not like the rest of those monsters. You’re kind. You have empathy. You’re capable of loving others.”
“Not entirely true. I’m not proud of some things I did.”
“Like what?”
“Like, for example, I—” A flurry of footsteps coming from the first floor could be heard.
“Hey,” a distant voice said. “I hear voices!”
Leaflet shut her green eyes and squeezed Lee’s body in fear. Lee whispered, “Fuck.” The footsteps multiplied in number and increased in volume exponentially. Leaflet’s body was shaking. “Leaflet.” She opened her eyes. “You’re going to have to save us. Do you think you could jump us out through that window? Can your body handle the fall?” Lee shared the same level of concern as her. Leaflet’s leafy eyelids shivered. She rose and looked out the window. A large horde of Sentinel shoulders stood at the base of the building.
Her wooden legs trembled and felt as brittle as twigs. She said, “Yeah I can handle that fall. But I don’t think we’d manage to escape that horde the second we’d land.” She shot out two quick questions. “Are there any other windows? How many stories is this building?” The two were no longer whispering. The footsteps intensified.
Lee stood up. “Fuck! I’m not sure.”
Leaflet turned away from the window. “We have to go upstairs then. Come on! I’ll carry you!”
Lee nodded. She picked him up with her versatile body and malleable rooted arms. Utilizing her springy legs, she sprinted up each flight of stairs thrice the speed of a human being, skipping six steps with each stride. The footsteps decreased in noise. They were on the eighth floor. Leaflet’s desire to be with Lee masqueraded all of her past fears. She yelled, “How many floors are there?!” Her physical heart continued to pound. Her heart for Lee was louder. The flights of stairs ended. They were on the 10th floor. A hatch to the roof appeared above her head.
Cradled like a baby, Lee yelled, “Open the hatch! Hide on the roof!”
Stretching her right arm, she pulled down the hatch lever. It was almost night. She propelled Lee and herself up with a powerful hop. She landed on the concrete roof. Every other building in their vicinity was the same height. Leaflet stood still. She didn’t know what to do.
Lee said, “Close the hatch so they can’t get to us.” Leaflet nodded and closed it.
Leaflet could still hear the approaching footsteps, but they were muffled. She said, “They’re still gonna reach us! We have no other option but to jump.”
“To the ground?! That’s a 10-story drop! No way you can survive that.”
“To the other building, I mean. It’s risky, but it’s all I can think of.” Her masquerade began to fall. Her fears began to seep in. The distance between the ledges was close to around 20 feet.
Lee yelled, “Leaflet! Look at me!” All of her fear lay in her green eyes. She reflected this fear to Lee. “You can do this! I fucking believe in you!”
Leaflet put on this masquerade again. She raised her right foot high up in the air. She distributed all of her physical energy into the first stride. She sprinted for the other building. One stride. Two stride. Three stride. She leapt. She felt the air tickle all over her body. Her potential energy was equivalent to that of her kinetic energy, yet she felt more of an energetic rush from the kineticism itself. She landed on the other roof with both feet. She exhaled with mania.
Someone from below yelled, “I saw them!”
Her masquerade and mania quickly dissipated. She stood still again. She panicked. She looked down at Lee’s cradled body. “What do I do?!”
Lee yelled, “You do it again! Keep going!”
She scanned around for other rooftops. The closest one was to her right, yet the gap was close to around 30 feet. She yelled, “I can’t! I won’t make it!” The sound of a rooftop hatch opening signaled Leaflet’s hearing. She turned around. A Sentinel guard came out of the hatch from the building she’d hopped from.
The guard yelled, “Spotted them!” He pulled out his gun.
Lee yelled, “Do it!”
Leaflet shut her green eyes and squeezed Lee’s body in fear. Lee whispered, “Fuck.” The footsteps multiplied in number and increased in volume exponentially. Leaflet’s body was shaking. “Leaflet.” She opened her eyes. “You’re going to have to save us. Do you think you could jump us out through that window? Can your body handle the fall?” Lee shared the same level of concern as her. Leaflet’s leafy eyelids shivered. She rose and looked out the window. A large horde of Sentinel shoulders stood at the base of the building.
Cradling Lee with her arms, the outside of her branchy fingers grazed the building wall until it became a sudden physical bump. Leaflet shifted her right arm up and cradled Lee with her left arm. Knocked back a few inches from the bump, she fell until she felt the indenture of a window sill with her right hand. She clamped onto this small protrusion of a wall and was jolted up and down from the sudden shift in gravity. Lee fell out of her cradle. She grabbed onto four fingers of his left hand. She looked down. It was a nine-story drop. She physically couldn’t handle the fall. She looked back and saw more Sentinel guards with guns on the rooftop of the first building she had hopped from. She was the target of their aim. Her masquerade didn’t fully cease to exist. She put it on.
Pulling herself up with her right arm, she lunged into the glass window and shattered it with her head. She dove in an upward motion into the inside of the building, flinging along Lee with her motion. Gunshots went off. She dodged them again. She tumbled on the hardwood floor of the inside. Lee tumbled atop her. The glass cut her branches. She clung onto Lee and dove away from the window’s opening. More gunshots went off but she dodged these too.
An outside voice yelled, “Ninth floor! Ninth floor!”
Lee’s head suffered a major cut. Blood dripped down his scalp. He was no longer smiling, and his eyes seemed less bright to Leaflet. Weakly, he said, “Keep going. We’re almost at the finish line.”
Leaflet got up. She picked up Lee. Physically exhausted and suffering major wooden tendon aches, she wanted to faint. She climbed upstairs to the 10th floor. She looked up. There was no rooftop hatch. Footsteps enlivened from the bottom floor. She put on the masquerade for the final time. She didn’t need to be asked what to do. She knew what to do.
She aimed at a window ahead of her. She sprinted forward, taking her longest strides she’d done in her lifetime. One stride. Two stride. Three stride. Four stride. Five stride. She broke through the glass, jumping over the outside window sill. Her hang time felt infinite. This gap was close to around 35 feet. Her trajectory seemed on point. She had enough mid-air height to clamp onto the ninth-story window sill.
She bumped into the building wall. However, her speed had been so great that she wasn’t knocked back by only a few inches. This elastic collision bumped her a few feet away from the wall. Reaching her right hand out to clamp onto the window sill, she was horizontally short by three inches. She free-fell down. Her descent felt never-ending.
Until it ended. Her back snapped as she hit the dirt floor. She screamed as her wooden head curled in deformity from the impact. She suffered the majority of the fall for Lee. She no longer could put on the masquerade. She bellowed like a dying animal. Tears flooded over her green eyes. She screamed, “FUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!” She couldn’t handle the pain. Animate plant nervous systems acquired a higher threshold of pain than humans. Lee’s inelastic collision with her had cracked her wooden torso.
Leaflet couldn’t focus on any other stimulus but her pain. Lee, whose entire face was covered with blood, yelled, “I’ll take it from here!” Lee struggled to pick her up. He had suffered too much physically to demonstrate any strength. “Let’s both work together on the count of three!” Leaflet continued to wail.
She screamed, “FUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKK!” Lee grabbed her by her mangled back. He screamed as he attempted to pick her up.
Leaflet and Lee screamed, “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKK!”
Leaflet felt her body beginning to rise. Their screams matched in pitch. Her body began to slowly move forward. Lee’s “FUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK” superseded Leaflet’s “FUUUUCCCKKK” in volume and vocal length.
Leaflet’s entire body was discombobulating. All of her tendons shook. All of her branches became twigs. The masquerade revealed itself even after what supposedly felt like the final time. She blinked out the lake of tears.
She and Lee were about 20 feet away from the entrance of the building that she had failed to enter. She continued to scream. Yet she heard a footstep over her scream. She turned to her left.
A Sentinel guard popped out from the side of a building. Leaflet’s green eyes dilated. She screamed, “LEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Lee looked to the side. He dropped Leaflet’s body to the floor. He screamed, “HAAAAARRRRRRYYYYY!”
Harry had his gun aimed at Lee. Harry yelled, “What are you doing?! Are you seeking to die?!”
Lee screamed, “DON’T DO THIS! I GIVE UP! DON’T KILL US!” Lee fell to the floor.
Harry put down his gun. “If you agree to be a prisoner, I won’t shoot!”
Lee yelled, “HUH?!” He rapidly pulled out his gun.
Harry pulled out his gun.
Harry was too slow.
Lee shot Harry in the head.
Leaflet continued to scream in pain. Lee bawled. He attempted to pick up Leaflet’s body again before Sentinel guards arrived. Screaming and bawling were the only two things Lee could emit from his mouth. As he carried Leaflet’s body, he yelled, “I’m sorry!”
Leaflet’s entire body shut down from the pain. She lost consciousness.
She woke up. It was almost pitch black. Lee and she were underneath a staircase on the fifth floor of a building. A small pool of blood sat stagnantly next to her torso. Lee had an incessant smile on his face. He whispered, “We lost them.” The blood on his face had been all dried up, looking like he wore red face paint. Leaflet’s pain continued to persist. She began to moan. “Shhhhh. We don’t want to make any noise just in case they're still searching for us. It’s been two hours since you went out cold.” Leaflet couldn’t think or talk. Pain talked to her as she thought about pain. “We were lucky Harry lowered his guard. I still feel guilty for shooting him though.” He smiled incessantly still.
An immediate insurmountable wave of pain hit Leaflet. Her baby was coming out. She couldn’t conceal her screams. This passed the normal threshold for pain for animate plants. A new form of pain had evolved as this pregnancy did not follow the normal laws of nature. It was an unnatural pregnancy. It was unnatural pain.
The baby was born. This new species was an unnatural product of an animate plant and a human. It was an animate human. The baby acquired bones with leaves and branches weaving around them. It had a human face with a venus-flytrap mouth. It acquired leafy hair. Its integral structure was made of wood and bone. Its hands flaunted flesh while its feet flaunted wood. Leaflet found it hideous. She fainted again from the pain overload.
She woke up. It was the brink of dawn. Her vision was blurry. She couldn’t get up from all the pain she’d endured. She saw Lee crouched in the corner staring and appearing horrified. She looked to her right.
The animate human said, “I decided to name myself Omega. What do you make of that male name?” No response. “Anyway . . . I was telling your ‘Lee’ how much I loved you and was looking forward to your wakefulness. He kept insisting that I was going to hurt you, but I never would lay a finger.”
Lee said, “Leaflet. I was wrong. Some things can be born monsters.”
Leaflet couldn’t speak still.
The animate human said, “I decided to name myself Omega. What do you make of that male name?” No response. “Anyway . . . I was telling your ‘Lee’ how much I loved you and was looking forward to your wakefulness. He kept insisting that I was going to hurt you, but I never would lay a finger.”
Leaflet’s green eyes watered. “You love me?”
“Of course,” Omega said. “I don’t.” He stood up and dove towards Leaflet’s lying body. Using his mega-strength, he cut open Leaflet’s insides with his sharp wooden fingernails. She screamed.
Lee pulled out his gun. He shot Omega in the head. The creature didn’t die. It only flinched as this bullet was minuscule as a scratch. Lee repeatedly shot him. Omega flinched more and backed away from Leaflet. Omega yelled, “I’ll be back with more of my kind!” He grunted as he strode away to the window. He shattered the window with his right fist and dove out of it.
Leaflet moaned and moaned. Lee put away his gun. He put his face up to hers. He cried in empathy. “I need you to run as far away from here as you can! I’ll come back for you!”
Leaflet yelled, “Why are you leaving me?!”
Lee said, “About that thing I wasn’t proud of doing . . . I wanna make up for it. I’m going back to save this boy named Max. He doesn’t deserve what’s coming to him. Nobody in that prison deserves it.”
“What about me?! Don’t you love me! Why are you leaving me?!”
“If you come with me, you’ll die. If you love me, you will listen to me!” Lee cried.
Lee ran downstairs.
“Hello? Sharon, is that you?”
“It’s me, Dad.”
“Oh. Hello, Bobby. Can you remind your mother to turn off the stove in case I left it on? You know, me being blind and all.”
“Mother is dead. I murdered her. You must’ve not heard, considering your hearing is aging poorly as well.”
“You did what?! I’m going to kill you, you little shit!”
“You’re going to do nothing in your condition. So let me ask you a few questions before I kill you too.”
“If I could see you, I’d poke out your eyes!”
“Why did you never care for me?”
“Why’d I never care for you?! It’s because you’re not my son! I never chose to raise you!”
“Why might that be?”
“I knew you were trouble the day I heard you discussing your neuro-whatever-the-fuck! You were smart. And you may have found things to better the world, but I knew there was something scary to you. I never understood why your mother was so supportive of you. She should’ve seen the future ugliness you would become!”
“She was supportive because she loved me. She had heart and soul. But you didn’t.”
“Why did you murder her then?!”
“Because I’ve never loved her. I've never loved both of you. You two were holding me back from my vision of world domination since birth.”
“You are truly a psycho! You are demented! The only thing that stands is that you aren’t my son!”
“Your perception of reality is not reality. Goodbye.”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ANDREW RUTANO
Andrew felt the manure of the manure field on his back. He had trouble maneuvering his back. He smelled the shit. He saw darkness since his eyes were closed. To his left, middle, and right, he saw Kevin, Rufus, and Shruburb all standing above him.
Andrew said, “Someone kill me.”
Kevin said, “Get up.”
“No. Fuck off. I can’t handle the pain. I can’t handle being away from my children as they suffer. I want to die. Yet I can’t handle death as I would be leaving my children behind. I wish I didn’t have to exist for a brief period of time!”
Shruburb leaned towards his face. Shruburb said, “Pain. It’s what differentiates us between the living and the dead. Those who cannot handle it simply die.” Shruburb slapped his face. “I am telling you this because you must desensitize yourself to the pain. Pain is what makes you stronger. Avoiding the pain makes you weaker. It makes you prone to death.” Andrew felt his right cheek get slapped harder. He saw the morning sky and Shruburb’s disgruntled face as he opened his eyes. “Are you this weak?! This is not the Andrew I know! You’ve been through so much already, and you want to throw it all away! You’ve come too far to give up!” Andrew felt the strongest slap of the crescendo.
Andrew squinted his face. He rubbed his red cheek. He yelled, “Fuck!” He rose from the floor of shit. He jolted his arms into his torso. “What the fuck is wrong with me?!”
Rufus said, “Nothing is wrong with you, man. We all feel like dying. You’re not the only one. But you gotta keep pushing through. We all do.”
Andrew spat the dryness out of his mouth. He flexed his hands and made his metacarpal bones visible. Andrew yelled, “Then why are we all still here?! When are we gonna bust out of here?! When are we finally going to escape?!”
Andrew saw Kevin staring through the metal fence solemnly. Kevin said, “Do you ever just wonder how we end up places? Do you just—do you just think what life would’ve been like if Robert had never done any of this shit? I should be in my apartment with Andrew. I should be planning on having a wife soon. I should be planning on having a family. What’s a man in his mid-thirties doing in an enslaved virtual world?”
“Look,” Rufus said. “We could all go around sharing sad personal monologues. Or we can act and find a stop to this bullshit.”
Andrew said, “If we’re gonna escape, we’re gonna need help. Where’s that man who was so insistent on helping us?”.
“Me,” a voice said. Andrew turned around. He saw Alonzo. “I can genuinely assist you all now. I’ve developed a plan that’s more than full-proof.” Andrew saw Natasha alongside him. “It’s going to be extremely risky. However, I’d say our odds of staying alive inside the prison are slimmer than escaping the prison successfully.”
Andrew asked, “Are you always hearing in on our conversations?”
Alonzo said, “It’s a possibility.”
“Forget that,” Kevin said. “Tell us your plan.”
“Wait,” Andrew said. “If we’re legitimately escaping, I’ll need my children with me.”
“Not possible,” Alonzo said. “It’s impossible to establish contact with inmates from other Prison Rotations.”
“Why can’t we break that rule?”
“Did you not hear me correctly? There’s no remote possibility.”
“Okay, fine. Out with the plan then.”
“Are any of you familiar with the Consciousness Inversion neuro-converters?”
“The what?”
“Guessed not. Now listen to this. If you wouldn’t guess, I was listening in on another conversation of two guards a few days ago before the aquaritorium disaster. They spoke on how Robert was considering utilizing these neuro-converters on his Sentinel before prisoners. From what I gathered from them, these neuro-converters are a means of escape. They lead to a sub-virtual world, or as they put it: ‘you are free to live life by your own choosing and will.’ Apparently, it’s a world where you create your own reality with your own imagination. And you live even if your physical body passes. I'm lastly guessing that Robert created this dimension for his Sentinel as a relaxation place for when they are exhausted on the job. If we could obtain access to these consciousness inversion converters, we could perhaps escape to this sub-virtual dimension.”
Rufus said, “I don’t believe a word of that. A virtual dimension to another virtual dimension?”
“Shut up, Rufus,” Andrew said. “How would we get our hands on them?”
“That’s gonna be the tricky part,” Alonzo said. “We’d need a Sentinel guard to cooperate with us.”
Rufus said, “How could we possibly reason with the Sentinel? They're practically programmed to be monsters.”
“Through brute force,” Alonzo said. “Kidnapping and torturing them seems to be our best option.”
Kevin said, “This seems too ambitious and far-fetched.”
Andrew said, “As much as I wish to escape, Kevin’s right.”
“I also feel the need to tell you all . . .” Alonzo said. “That while listening in on the conversation of those two guards, I heard them say that Robert had been planning on making an ‘announcement’ to all prisoners and animate plants anytime soon. And using my best judgment based on how hostile Robert can be, I don’t think this is something to take on lightly.”
“Meaning what exactly?” Andrew asked.
Alonzo said, “An ‘announcement’ most likely implies an impending doom for—. I can’t comprehend specifically what Robert could have in mind, but I can imagine it being an eventful disaster.”
Rufus asked, “Why should we trust what you say?”
Alonzo stretched his eyebrows. “Why in God’s name would I lie to you all? What would I gain from sharing this? Think it all out. If you try to deduce, you won’t be able to come up with ulterior motives.”
Shruburb said, “He’s speaking the truth. He really wants us to escape with him. Even if he did lie, he would have nothing to obtain from deceit.”
Rufus said, “I guess.”
“So you’re with us?” Natasha asked. “I know I can’t speak much for you guys, but you all must believe my husband. Our will to live is much the same as yours.”
Andrew saw the group of five as a whole. He asked, “So what should our plan be?”
“We fuck a guard up,” Kevin said. “But we have to lure him to an area where there are no witnesses.”
“But how?” Rufus asked.
“I’ll do it,” Andrew said.
Rufus asked, “When though?”
“I’m gonna do it fucking now,” Andrew said. He turned around from the collective five. He walked away. As he left speaking range, Rufus said, “But how are we gonna convince them?” Andrew was out of speaking distance. He didn’t know how he would convince them. But he still walked.
Kevin yelled, “Where the fuck are you going, Andrew?!” Andrew walked faster. He was out of yelling range.
Andrew stood in the middle of the manure field. He was surrounded by white garments of other inmates.
He was shoved to the floor. A man grabbed him by the shirt collar. The face of this man was not brightened. His face winced.
Andrew was punched in the face. His nose cracked. Blood seeped. Andrew was punched again. His vision grew blurry. The man cried. He said, “I’m sorry.” He dragged Andrew by the shirt collar. Andrew was still conscious. His physical body said otherwise. The white garments in the crowd remained stagnant. He was pulled along the manure. Andrew dozed off. Time passed.
Andrew was slapped. He looked up. Three muscular men surrounded his field of view. The man in the middle pulled out his Dopamine Coin Transferer from his Hub and plugged it into Andrew’s Dopamine Withdrawer. The man withdrew 1,000 coins from Andrew. The man disconnected the Transferer from Andrew’s Hub. The man said, “You did well, Cameron.”
“I did what you said,” Cameron said. “Could you please spare some of your dopamine now?”
“I don’t spare,” Waldune said. “You earn through action and—”
“I did act!” Waldune said.
“And begging,” Waldune said.
Cameron screamed, “I am begging!”
Waldune said, “Where’s the body motion? Where’s the performance?”
Cameron fell to his knees. He ripped out the remaining hair from his almost bald head. He screamed, “I beg!”
“Now that’s something,” Waldune said. “Since I’m feeling a tad generous, I’ll lend you 5 coins.” Waldune transfered 5 coins to Cameron’s Hub.
The man threw his hair in the air. He yelled, “Thank you so much!” He fell face-first in the manure and sobbed. The man to the left of Waldune disconnected Waldune’s Transferer cable from Cameron’s Hub.
Andrew witnessed this entire exchange as he recovered physically.
He said, “So this is what you do, huh? Taking advantage of the depleted. You’re a sick man.”
“You’re a dopamine-poor man. You’re almost at zero while I’m at a happy 33,131 coins. You’re the neurochemically-sick man. Not a neuro-degenerate though. This man below me. Cameron. He’s a neuro-degenerate. The poor fella is at -11,301 coins. Hardcore depression, lethargy, and desperation are all that make up this person.”
Andrew wiped the blood away from his nose. “Can’t you empathize with the man? Are you narcissistic or are you just so plentiful on dopamine that pride is all you’re able to feel? You’re neurochemically sicker than all of us.”
Waldune said, “I’d be more careful of what you say next. If you threaten me in any way, my buddies will gladly pulverize you.” The two muscular men raised their posture. “So get the fuck out of my sight.” The muscular man to his left grasped onto Andrew’s shoulders and lifted him up into the air. He threw Andrew. Andrew glided across the manure as he fell. His head tapped lightly next to someone’s foot from the impact. The person with the foot looked down at Andrew. He kicked him in the face. Andrew’s nose bled more.
Andrew yelled, “God fucking damnit!” He struggled to get up. The man with the foot pushed him even farther from himself and Waldune’s group direction.
He dove into the manure harder. Andrew blinked it out. He got up with struggle.
He walked fast as his muscles convulsed. He saw a Sentinel guard on the inside perimeter of the manure field. The guard was shorter than him. Andrew found this more approachable. He dodged all of the white garments. He was a few feet away from the guard. He opened his mouth.
He was pulled to his right side by his shirt collar. His collar had been stretched tremendously. He saw the man who pulled him. It was Kevin.
Andrew yelled, “Let me go!”
Kevin said, “I don’t think so.”
“Fucking let go!” Andrew punched Kevin in the jaw. Kevin let go of his shirt collar. Andrew ran for it. He cried. He yelled, “I’m sick of this shit! When will it end?!” He looked back. Kevin chased him down.
Andrew tripped on a prisoner’s shoe. He fell. Kevin caught up to him. He grabbed onto Andrew’s left arm. Andrew screamed, “When will you let go of me?!”
Kevin yelled, “Relax, Andrew!”
Andrew sobbed. “No! I want to die! But I don’t want to die! I’m tired of the suffering! I don’t give a fuck what Shruburb said about desensitizing yourself to the pain! It’s too much!”
Kevin tightened Andrew’s wrist. “Andrew, please. Get a hold of yourself!”
Andrew yelled, “I wish I couldn’t perceive pain! I wish I was emotionless! Why have emotions if all they do is bring constant excruciating pain?! Maybe all of these apathetic monsters have it better than us! Maybe that’s why they still have the will to live while I don’t!”
Kevin let go of Andrew’ arm. He sobbed too. “None of that is fucking true! People who don't have emotions suffer more! Being unable to perceive pain brings them more pain! But they don’t show it! Because they can’t show it! They’re lost souls!” He slapped Andrew across the face. He screamed, “BEING EMOTIONLESS IS WORSE THAN DEATH!”
“How would you know?!”
Kevin yelled, “Look at them all around you! Look at your father! You think he likes who he is?! He’s given the impression that he likes himself because all of his excessive irritability overshadows his logical thinking! Let me repeat again! They are lost souls who need help!”
Andrew lost all energy to speak anymore. He let his tears do the talking. Kevin said, “Our emotions don’t bring us pain. They help handle the pain.” Kevin put his arm around Andrew’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath. I actually have good news for once. Alonzo is in the process of luring a guard to an area where no guards have sight.” Andrew inhaled. He exhaled.
Andrew closed his eyes. He inhaled deeper. He exhaled greater. He opened his eyes. He wiped away his tears. He said, “I’m just so tired.”
“Well,” Kevin said. “Assemble all your energy because we need your help in executing our plan.”
“What plan?”
Kevin said, “Alonzo already told us about it. I’ll tell you later. We should head over there right now. They might need our help in case things don’t go too smoothly.” He offered a hand to Andrew.
Andrew grabbed onto the hand. He said, “You’re a great friend.”
“Thanks,” Kevin said. “We better run. Follow me.” Kevin booked it. Andrew followed at the same pace. As they ran, Kevin said, “I hope they’re able to physically suppress the guard.” Andrew dodged the white garments. “I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time to be honest.”
Kevin ran laterally to the left more. Andrew kept up. They passed more white garments until there was an empty gap of just manure. At the corner of the fence curvature, Andrew saw Rufus, Kevin, Natasha, and Alonzo standing closely together. So close that the sides of their bodies concealed what was behind them.
Kevin said, “Hurry, Andrew.” Andrew and Kevin approached the tightly-knit pack of humans. The pack glanced at Kevin and Andrew’s presence. “Where’s the guard?”
“Good,” Alonzo said, back turned towards the fence. “This is the reaction we would want other guards to sustain.”
Kevin said, “What do you mean?”
Alonzo stepped to the side, away from Natasha. A Sentinel guard was tied to the metal fence by Shruburb’s branches. Andrew stepped back. The guard’s legs and arms were inwardly bent towards the focal point of his body. His mouth was covered by Shruburb’s arm. He breathed out heavily from his nose.
Kevin yelled, “Shit! How did you guys—”
“Shhh!” Rufus expressed. “We don’t want to direct any attention.” The guard breathed louder and in quicker breaths. Rufus turned towards the guard. “Why is he breathing like that? I think he’s struggling to breathe. Is he about to die?”
Shruburb asked, “Should I let go of his mouth?”
“Not yet,” Alonzo said. He walked up to the guard’s face. “You gonna keep quiet? And listen to what we told you before?” The guard nodded rapidly. He hummed under the branch. “If you say or do anything out of line, we’ll kill you.” Alonzo looked at Shruburb. “Uncover his mouth.” Shruburb retracted his arm branch away from the guard’s mouth.
The guard said, “I couldn’t—” He was out of breath. “I was dying. I have a deviated septum and can only breathe out of one nose hole.” He breathed in deeply. “It feels so good to breathe again.”
“We could care less,” Alonzo said. “Just give us the converters.”
The guard finally got a hold of his breath. “Yeah. Just don’t murder me. And follow my plan that I thought up while held up to a fence.” He looked around the meatshield. “I’m a nice guy. My name is Enzo, too, if any of you cared.”
“We don’t,” Alonzo said. “What’s your plan?”
“You seem like a complete downer. I—” Alonzo slapped his face. Enzo realigned his head. “Okay, relax. One of you would have to guise as a captured prisoner, and, then, I would lead you to the Experimentation Room. I could possibly get away with saying that one of you is a test dummy for a neuro-converter. I could say it was an order. I’d figure it out on the spot.”
“That sounds a bit promising to me,” Rufus said. Alonzo still had his face locked on Enzo. “What do you think, Alonzo?”
“It’ll do,” Alonzo said. “So who will be the one to—”
Andrew said, “I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna get us out of this mess.”
“Okay, that’s sorted then,” Rufus said.
Enzo asked, “Can I have my helmet back?” Shruburb picked up his helmet next to the base of the fence. “By the way, I won’t help unless you untie me from this fence” Shruburb retracted all of his branches, and Enzo fell to the floor. Shruburb handed the helmet to him. “And I want dibs over the converter since I want out of this place too.”
“Doesn’t make a difference who obtains them first,” Alonzo said. “But sure. You can be the first.”
Enzo put on his helmet. “So who’s gonna be my lucky prisoner?”
“I am,” Andrew said.
Kevin said, “Let me do it, Andrew. You’ve been through too much as of lately.”
“No,” Andrew said. “I already told you. I’m doing it.”
Enzo stretched his muscles. He said, “I’m convinced I developed arthritis from that position I was in. So . . . are you ready? What’s your name?”
“Andrew.”
“Alright, then,” Enzo said. “I’m gonna need to cuff you.”
“Do it.”
Enzo pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He cuffed Andrew. Enzo said, “Don’t say a word when I’m around guards.”
“You better not say a word about our plan,” Alonzo said. “You’ll have six people who’ll want you dead.” Enzo nodded, grabbed Andrew’s right shoulder, and guided him forward. They passed more white garments and manure terrain.
Andrew scanned the guards atop the watchtowers next to the manure field gated entrance. Enzo squeezed Andrew’s shoulder tighter. He whispered, “Just look straight.” Enzo brought Andrew so close to the front gate that he almost made contact. Andrew looked straight.
A guard from the left watchtower said, “What the fuck you doing?”
Enzo said, “Please open the gate for me. I was ordered by the Monarch to run a series of converter tests on Inmate #—” He took a short pause. “0001.”
The guard asked, “Since when?”
“Since now.”
“We were never alerted about anything of that nature.”
“Look. Do you really want me to tell the Monarch that you are resisting orders?”
“No. I—”
“Good. Then open the fucking door.”
The gate began to open. Andrew glanced up at the left watchtower. There were five guards on this tower. He couldn’t read their faces due to their helmets. The gate fully opened.
Enzo pushed Andrew forward. Andrew looked straight again. The lobby doors were ahead of them. Enzo said, “I played that well, didn’t I?”
Andrew said, “Just hurry up. We can’t buy more time.”
“Calm down, downer.” Enzo and Andrew made it to the lobby doors. Enzo opened them. “We’re almost there.” He turned Andrew to the left. They walked down this hallway. They turned left at the dead-end to another hallway. “Cross your fingers the Monarch isn’t in his office.”
Andrew whispered, “This is my father’s office?”
“Your father is the Monarch?!” They made it inside the office. The chair behind the desk was empty.
Andrew said, “Yeah. Is that an issue or something?”
“No. I didn’t expect that. That’s all.” Enzo continued to push Andrew forward. “We’re lucky he isn't here.” A door stood in front of Andrew. “Now we pray no one is in the Experimentation Room.” Enzo opened the door. No one was in this large white complex. Andrew had never seen this room too. “We hit a double jackpot.”
Andrew said, “This seems too easy.” Enzo let go of Andrew’s right shoulder.
“I can uncuff you from here,” Enzo said. He uncuffed him.
“Hurry up again,” Andrew said. “Get the converters. Hurry.”
“Relax, you downer.” Enzo was near a wall.
He pressed a green button. A rotating cylinder presented itself. Floating water sheets displayed 17 tabs.
Andrew said, “Jesus. What is this?”
“All 17 neuro-converters.” Enzo selected #17. Andrew read the rest of the converters.
“What do all of these mean? What’s a ‘neurotransmitter converter’?”
“You’re asking the wrong person.”
“Let’s bring some other kind of converters, too.”
“No. That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“They might give us an advantage when we escape.”
“No. How many consciousness inversion converters did you guys need?”
“Shit. I’m actually not sure.”
“I’ll just grab 200.”
“200?!”
“Yeah. The Monarch has thousands of converters. I doubt he would notice too.”
“Whatever. Just hurry up for the last time.”
“Downer.” Enzo inputted the number 200 on the water sheet. 200 consciousness inversion converters spat out of the cylinder. They fell on the tile floor.
Andrew yelled, “Holy fuck!” The converters looked like small black keys to Andrew. He picked one up. He analyzed it. “How are we gonna transport these?”
“Use your shirt as a pouch,” Enzo said. “You’re the one who needs to hurry up now.”
“Shut up,” Andrew said. He dropped the one converter. He bent down. He bent the bottom of his shirt forward with his left hand and scooped up a handful of keys with his right hand. Andrew repeated this process. “Help me.” Enzo got down to the floor. He scooped keys with both hands and dumped them in Andrew’s shirt pouch. Enzo repeated this process.
They had scooped all of them. Andrew got up, holding the shirt pouch with his right hand. He said, “Okay. Let’s both hurry outta here.” Enzo nodded and got up too.
They speed-walked out of the Experimentation Room. They swiftly galloped past Robert’s empty office. They walked down the hallway. They turned right. A guard stood in front of them. He looked down at Andrew’s shirt pouch. “Hey! What the fuck?!” the guard yelled.
Enzo said, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Relax.”
The guard said, “Who gave you permission to withdraw this many converters?! Why the fuck is an inmate with you?! This is—” The guard got closer to them.
Enzo said, “This can all be explained!” The guard stopped approaching. “Let me just—” Enzo pulled out his handgun. The guard’s eyes dilated as he was punctured through the frontal lobe with a bullet.
Andrew loudly whispered, “Fuck! Why’d you do that?!”
Enzo said, “Thank the heavens for my silencer. Let’s both hurry up before anyone spots this crime scene.” He shoved Andrew forward. Andrew slipped on the dead neuronal blood. He tried to get up. He quickly smeared the blood on the tile floor. Enzo lightly pushed him forward. “We gotta hit the triple jackpot.” They both began to run. They turned right again. They were in the lobby. Andrew stained the floor with his bloody footsteps. He scanned the lobby. They faced the opposite way of the reception desk. Four guards walked away from behind them.
Andrew got close to Enzo. “How the fuck do we get past the gate looking like this?”
Enzo paused. “Firstly, take off your shoes. And secondly, relinquish some of the converters you're holding. I take that back. Relinquish the majority of what you’re carrying. Bring as many as you can fit in your pockets. I should handcuff you again too.”
Andrew said, “Let’s go back to the hallway to avoid suspicion.” Enzo nodded. They headed back to the hallway. Andrew saw the dead guard again. He quickly took off his white shoes. Shirt pouched unfolded. 200 converters hit the floor. Andrew stuffed a handful of keys in his left and right pockets. “Hurry. Cuff me.”
Enzo cuffed him. “Let’s go.” Enzo speed-walked. Andrew followed in his socks.
They made it to the lobby again. Andrew scanned it again. No eyes were on them. Enzo opened the lobby doors. He whispered, “Just look straight.” They walked on the dirt trail. They arrived at the gate. Andrew looked straight through the gate at the manure field filled with white garments.
A guard, atop the watchtower now to the right of Andrew, asked, “How did your converter tests go?”
“They went great,” Enzo said. “I tested the vestibular gland converter on him.”
The guard said, “Really? How did he react to it?”
Enzo took a short pause. “He reacted to it just like everyone else did.”
The guard said, “I see. What does the converter exactly accomplish? Because I’ve never actually seen anyone use it.”
Enzo took a pause. “Oh, you know. It affected all of his brain stuff. I wouldn’t know all the details too as Robert only ordered that I run the series of tests. He never specified that I analyze or take note of how Inmate #0001 would react.”
“Okay,” the guard said. “I guess that makes sense.”
Enzo took a long pause. “So could you open the gate for us? As I said, the testing is over.”
The guard took a short pause. “Sure.”
The gates began to open. Andrew glanced up to his right. He remembered. He looked straight again. The gate opened fully.
Enzo grabbed onto Andrew’s right shoulder. Enzo pushed him forward as he followed. They walked to the right to head back to their original manure-field standing position. They passed the stagnant white garments.
Enzo said, “We hit the triple jackpot.” Andrew nodded.
“Uncuff me now,” Andrew said. Enzo uncuffed him. “We still need to hurry. They can find that fucking dead body at any time.”
They continued to walk forward. Andrew first saw Alonzo’s face and then the rest of the group. They waited, sitting in a circle. Alonzo met eye contact. He rose and smiled. The rest of the group stood.
Andrew was at the group’s forefront. Shruburb was the first to get closest to Andrew. Shruburb said, “Success?”
“You bet,” Andrew said. He grabbed a consciousness inversion converter out of his right pocket and presented it like a piece of art. Shruburb reached his wooden hand out. Enzo snatched it from Andrew’s hand.
“I’m wasting no time whatsoever,” Enzo said. “Someone insert this into my #17 Hub hole.”
Andrew asked, “Are you crazy? Why now out of all—”
“Let him do it,” Alonzo said. “He has dibs.”
Enzo said, “Fuck it. I’ll insert it myself.” He read the holes like braille and inserted it in the most bottom-right hole. A crackling noise went off. He fell unconscious.
Kevin yelled, “Wh-what?! Why’d he fall to the floor?”
Alonzo stepped forward towards Andrew. He dug both of his hands in both of Andrew’s pockets. He grabbed the handfuls of converters and tugged them away from Andrew’s possession. Andrew yelled, “What the fuck!” Alonzo put the converters in his pockets. He took off his white shirt. “What the fuck is going on?! Why the fuck you take them away from me?!”
Alonzo’s face: blank. He turned his back towards Andrew. Both of the rhomboid major muscles of his back opened up with titanium exhaust muzzles. His back became a jetpack. Andrew was too slow to make a move. The exhaust muzzles blasted with fire. Alonzo levitated 15 feet above the manure. Andrew only gravitated.
Alonzo yelled, “Who wants to escape from this prison?! I’m offering a chance to escape to another dimension for 10,000 Dopamine coins! I only have 23 passes! This is a first-come, first-served opportunity!”
Andrew couldn’t move. He saw Kevin grab onto Natasha’s shoulders. He yelled, “What are you two up to?!”
Natasha said, “We’re seizing an opportunity.” She shoved Kevin away.
Andrew began to hear murmurs. Now noise. Now commotion.
Andrew turned around. A hoard of white garments began to assemble.
Kevin yelled, “Are y’all fucking nuts?!” Andrew turned to Kevin. Kevin threw a punch at Natasha. Natasha barely reacted. She returned a much harder punch back. Shruburb charged Natasha.
Andrew turned around again. White garments began to parade Andrew’s personal space. People behind the front view of his hoard began running. Andrew turned to Kevin. Shruburb had Natasha tangled in branches. Andrew was pushed from the back. The commotion grew louder. Andrew fell. People trampled on his back.
Andrew got up and pushed away the white garments surrounding him. He looked up. Alonzo levitated while carrying someone with white garments with his left arm. It was Waldune. Alonzo had his Dopamine Coin Transferer attached to Waldune’s Hub. Andrew said, “Everybody stop.” The density of packed white garments was at its peak directly underneath Alonzo. “Everyone stop!” White garments shoved and screamed. Hands were up directly underneath Alonzo. “This isn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to—” Someone’s hand got caught in Andrew’s mouth. He shook the hand away with a head shake. Andrew screamed, “EVERYBODY STOP! THIS IS ALL—” He was shoved to the floor once more. “THIS IS ALL A SETUP! DON’T USE THE CONVERTERS!” He was in a sea of manure and white shoes. “FUCKING STOP USING THE—” A white shoe stepped on his neck. His neck slightly cracked. “STOP USING THE CONVERTERS!” Tears, blood, and manure lit up his taste buds. He attempted to stand. “FUCK YOU, ALONZO!” More white shoes stepped on his back.
Andrew’s shirt collar levitated. He choked with his cracked back as he was pulled up from the manure floor. It was Kevin. He dragged Andrew through the white garments. Kevin yelled, “I’m gonna get you outta here, Andrew!” Andrew closed his eyes. Bodily forces bounced and impacted him as he was pulled to his left. He wailed.
Andrew screamed, “THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!” Tongue blood flowed down his jittering jaw. “KILL ME!” He was pulled quicker. He bumped harder with the white garments, but there were fewer bumps.
“Andrew!” Kevin yelled. He grabbed onto Andrew’s left hand in addition to his shirt collar. He pulled him faster. The shouts and bodily forces were less. “Fuck! We’re gonna figure all this shit out! Don’t give up!” He stopped dragging Andrew.
Andrew opened his eyes. There were fewer white garments. He saw Shruburb and Rufus by Kevin’s side. White garments continually shouted. “Jesus, Andrew,” Rufus said. “Are you okay?!”
Andrew let out a bloody cough. His body started to give out. “You need—” He inhaled as blood passed down his trachea. “You guys need to warn everyone that the converters are a trap!”
“A trap?!” Kevin asked. “How?!”
“It’s my fucking father! He’s behind all this shit! Tell them for me! Trust me! Please!”
“How do you know?” Rufus asked.
Andrew screamed, “JUST FUCKING DO IT!” Blood filled up his septum. He spoke every word he could.
Kevin yelled, “Alright! Me and Rufus will! Shruburb, you protect Andrew!” Shruburb nodded. Kevin and Rufus charged in the white garment moshpit behind Andrew.
Shruburb crouched next to Andrew. “You’re right, Andrew. Your father must’ve planned this whole charade ever since we first met Alonzo. But I don’t understand. What would his motive possibly be?” All Andrew could do was nod. Shruburb turned around. Andrew just noticed Enzo’s unconscious body. Shruburb approached it. He got close to Enzo’s face. Andrew had tuned out all of the white garment commotion. “He looks like he’s breathing still.” He grabbed onto Enzo’s shoulders. He tried to push Enzo’s body closer to his chest. Enzo’s body wouldn’t budge.
Shruburb pulled him harder. Andrew heard the loudest crack. Enzo’s skull discombobulated and cracked as Shruburb pulled his body away. A supernova of blood exploded. Blood reached Andrew. As Shruburb’s pull motion ended, a floating solid clear substance appeared where Enzo’s head used to be. A tiny spider rested on this floating substance. Enzo no longer had a face. Fractured bone and blood lay on the manure. His brain suffered a major hemorrhage.
Andrew gargled blood as he screamed at this sight. Shruburb hopped away from the body and screamed.
Andrew’s scream was in competition in noise level with the new screams of the white garment moshpit. Still lying on the manure, Andrew shifted his head to the screaming competitors. Alonzo still levitated above, yet he wasn’t holding Waldune. He was holding onto someone else. Andrew forced himself to get up.
White garments violently danced around in a circle. Inside the circle was Waldune. Every individual’s scream couldn’t be separately deciphered. There was only one unified scream. White garments attempted to steal Waldune’s converter. Waldune held the key up with his right hand as he was brutally battered and shoved. White garments clawed and scratched his bleeding arm. Someone dove on his head. Waldune’s arm sank as he himself sank into the sea of white garments. He couldn’t see where Kevin or Rufus were.
The prison intercom went off. “Prison Rotations A-E, please report to the outside field at once. Rotate!”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: INMATE #7031
Gimme some fucking dopamine . . . it’s so crowded . . . get your hands off me . . . I need it more than all of you . . . I need some . . . I can’t handle it . . . let me live again . . . fucking just give me the consciousness inversion key . . . I hate my life . . . escape . . . I’m in fucking Dopamine Coin withdrawal. “I need a key!” I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way . . . I’ll stab them . . . “I need it the most!” hahahahaha . . . I wish I was dead . . . no . . . I need to live . . . I’m going to live . . . fuck! . . . a key! “Give it to me! I NEED IT MORE THAN ALL OF YOU!” The key is so fucking close . . . fuck all of these white garments . . . ugggghhhhh . . . it’s so close! “AHHHH! GIVE ME IT YOU BASTARDS!” I’m going to kill all of these fuckers . . . it’s too close! . . . I miss my old self! . . . this is the only fucking way! . . . “PLEASE!” no . . . No . . . NO . . . NO! . . . NO!! . . . NO!!! . . . how the fuck did I fall?! . . . am I really going to die alone like this? . . . this isn’t fair! “OWWWW! GET YOUR FEET OFF ME YOU ANIMALS!” I hate all of you! . . . fuck you! . . . fuck all of you! “FUCK THIS WORLD!”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: MAXWELL RUTANO
Max stood in line about 40 people away from the gated entrance. Almost two-fifths of the inmates were gone. Past the gate, Max heard distant screams. Everybody in the line behind and in front of him was silent. Even with its grand size, the manure field was almost packed to the brim.
About 3% of the white garments paraded in a mosh pit far out in the right hemisphere of the manure field in relation to Max. As each person in the line passed the gate, Max breathed heavier. He desired to see his father. However, in a sea of around 6,000 white garments, Max disregarded this idea. He desired to see Roota and Sawostick. As #8081, Max planned to meet them to his left in close proximity to the gate where they usually played their music. Sawostick was #9006 and Roota was #9007.
Max was next in line to enter the gated entrance. He looked above at the two watchtowers. They wore helmets. No facial expressions were identifiable. Max entered the manure. The presence of white garments increased. The distant screams increased, but he couldn’t pinpoint the location of them due to his height. He did a quick scan to find his father. No results. He decided to execute the plan and wait to the side for Sawostick and Roota. He dodged the white garments.
He arrived at the spot. He waited for their presence. Time passed.
Waiting alongside the metal fence, Max saw a white garment seeming to walk towards his position. He didn’t trust white garments as much as the Sentinel and Myriad.
The white garment maintained the same directional movement. Max strayed to the right a bit. The white garment tinkered his directional movement. Max stopped straying. He yelled, “Back off!” The white garment maintained the same unbrightened face and directional movement. Max wanted to run, but he needed to meet Sawostick and Roota. “Why can’t anyone leave me alone?! Stay away from me!” The white garment was a few feet away. He reached his right arm out. He touched Max’s Hub.
The white garment weakly said, “Spare.” He stopped touching Max’s Hub. His right arm, enwrapped by branches, was ripped off from the rest of his body. The white garment winced his face but didn’t have the energy to make a sound. Max turned to his right. It was Sawostick. Roota was directly behind him.
Max began to cry. Sawostick threw the arm to the side. He punched the white garment’s unbrightened face repeatedly until the white garment fell to the floor. Max turned away from this sight. He felt a hug. It was from Roota. Sawostick yelled, “Who touches a child?!”
Max still heard punches. He put his bloody hands on his face. He whimpered. “I want this to all stop.” Roota hugged him tighter.
“Stop it,” Roota said. “He wants you to stop!”
The punches stopped. Sawostick said, “Sorry, Max.”
“It’s not you,” Max said. “I just want all the suffering to stop. I really don’t know how much more and how much longer I can handle it.” Max resisted Roota’s hug. The distant screams now felt like white noise to Max.
Sawostick said, “I’m sorry again, Max.” Max removed his hands from his face and looked at Sawostick. “Don’t be scared. We’re here with you, and we’re not gonna let anything happen to you again.”
Max said, “What happens when you two are gone again though? I can’t always be protected.”
“That’s something for you to not worry about,” Sawostick said. “Focus on the now.”
Roota said, “Now, I get the feeling that something bad will soon occur. Yet I can’t tell what’s going on down there. Seems bad.” She officially ended her hug. “I think we should set our priorities straight. Sawostick, what do you think of escaping? Now would be the best time to escape with that commotion going on in the background.”
“No,” Sawostick said. “There’s no way out of here regardless. We wouldn’t be able to hop over the fence even if we tried. And climbing over it is out of the question. The electric fence would turn us to firewood.”
“See,” Max said. “It will never stop.”
“Not with that mindset,” Sawostick said. “I suggest we play some music to pass the time and get us in the right mindset.”
Max wiped his bloody hands on his white garments. “I don’t have my flute. I have nothing to play with.”
“Who says I can’t make you another flute,” Sawostick said. He extended the branches in his right arm. He created a new flute. He grabbed the flute with his left hand and ripped it off his right arm. He jolted. He presented it to Max.
Max said, “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Yes,” Sawostick said. “But it’s worth it. Let’s play some music now.” Max grabbed his flute. The wooden texture was smoother than his first one. It felt lighter.
Roota created her harp with her fibrous branches. She said, “Let’s play.”
Max wiped his tears. He nodded.
Sawostick started the rhythm by making the first drum pattern by banging his wooden arms on the metal fence. Max blew in the flute. It sounded crisper. Roota strung the harp. The more they played, the more a listening crowd of white garments began to form. Unbrightened faces brightened. Max closed his eyes. The rhythm carried his mind. His puckered lips began to rise. Their harmony was greater than the last time they played. Max smiled. The rhythm had finished carrying him. He opened his eyes.
A guard without a helmet had a gun aimed slightly to the left of Max’s head. He shot. He aimed slightly to the right of Max’s head. He shot again. Sawostick and Roota died. Max’s hearing went out. He couldn’t turn his neck. The listening crowd dispersed.
The guard aimed the gun at Max’s head. His arm shook unsteadily. His eyebrows oscillated. He put the gun down.
Max’s legs went numb. He dropped his flute. Lips sealed, his jaw and eyebrows dipped down. His whole body shook and went numb. His vision grew wet.
Max’s hearing came back. Halfway-spoken screams entered his ears. The guard said, “I’m sure it’s not easy losing your loved ones. How do you think I felt?”
Max finally turned to his right. Sawostick’s body and the flute lay dead. Dead wood. Max’s tongue felt liquified. “Sawo—?”
He turned to his left. Roota’s body and her harp lay dead. Two dead wood. “Roo—?”
No white garments stood in the guard’s 100-foot radius except Max and the manure. The guard laughed. “You’re lucky you’re a human. What’s a human like you doing entangling himself in social interactions with these plant mongrels?” He ended his laughing tone. “Ponder how I felt when I lost my buddy, Harry, because of these goddamned walking shit-sticks. Cherish that—. No. Live that feeling that I felt.” His smile returned.
Max sobbed. He fell to the floor. Having vision and hearing hurt. He looked at Sawostick’s body. “I did this out of free will. It wasn’t some neurotransmitter abnormality that persuaded me to do this. It was me! I’m me!” Max looked at Roota’s body. “Human entanglement with plants. It’s—it’s—it’s—it should be illegal and—. No. All animate plants deserve what’s coming to them. I just cherished that beginning appetizer.”
Max clenched on the manure with both hands. He let go of his hands. He saw the flute. He clenched the flute. He rose. He screamed. He sprinted at the guard. He raised Sawostick’s extended bodily appendage in the air. He jumped. He stabbed the guard’s right eye with the flute.
The guard leaned back and reenacted the performance of a seizure. His scream superseded Max’s scream. He pulled out the flute with his left hand and pulled out his gun simultaneously. “Son of a fucking bitch!” Max kicked him in the groin. The guard dropped his gun. “YOU—”
A deafening clicking sound went off across the entire manure field. The guard this time actually had a seizure. Every guard on the manure field had a seizure. He fell to the floor. His entire body discombobulated. Max backed away.
The prison intercom noise went off. “All humans, please remain calm, and try your best to stay away from all animate plants as the genocide process commences itself.”
The guard’s body had stopped discombobulating. Max felt the ground rumble. Loud grunts crescendoed. Still relatively close to the gated entrance, Max saw a hoard of monsters enter through this. Almost 200 animate humans loudly stomped their way in on all-fours.
Max’s tears had vanished. The guard rose from the floor with an emotionless face. He pulled out the flute from his right eye, igniting a bloody volcano. He threw the flute to the side with the same face. He pulled out his gun. He aimed it at Max. He shot but missed due to his sight. He swayed his aim more to his left.
Max was tackled to the side. The guard missed again. It was Terry.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: SENTINEL GUARD #1322
[Oxytocin, Substance P, and Glutamate Exterminated].
#9481 of Prison Rotation E yelled, “Jacob! Open your eyes! I’m your wife!”
Sentinel Guard #1322 yelled, “I know you’re my wife!”
#9481 yelled, “Why are you doing this to me?!”
#1322 thought, Fuck! I love her!
#9481 yelled, “I love you Jacob! Think about our kids who died because of Robert! Don’t be upset at me! Be upset over Robert neurochemically manipulating you and all of his other men!”
#1322 thought, I hate her! I hate you! Why the fuck am I like this?! I like murdering women and children! I hate Robert! This isn’t me! I’m going to kill her!
#9481 said, “Fight that monster in your head for the sake of us! Don’t kill me! I love you more than anything!”
#1322 screamed, “Fuck!” #1322 pulled out his gun and aimed it at #9481's head. #1322 thought, I’m going to kill her! She deserves to die!
#9481 screamed, “Jacob! Please!”
#1322 screamed a louder “FUCK!” He stuck the gun up to his ear. He shot.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: LEAFLET
It began to rain. Leaflet lay in her same spot on the fifth floor of the building. She felt too weak to move. The pain had lessened as her body had gone numb. She worried for Lee.
She heard a grunt. Four grunts. It was the same grunt she had heard before. The grunt of an animate human. She was their prey. She had to get up. She forced her disfigured back up. She held back a painful scream as motoneuronal control lessened the numbness. She stood. All of her numbness morphed into pain. The grunting arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Down was not an option. She took her first step. All of her bodily nerves felt more twisted in pain than the disfigured branches in her back.
“I heard a footstep!” a voice yelled. The grunting sped up. Leaflet took her first stride. She headed up the stairs.
“You mean footsteps!” another voice yelled. Leaflet let out a worried yelp.
“It’s definitely her!” the voice of Omega yelled.
Leaflet increased the speed of her strides. There was no Lee to protect her. If they got to her, it was the end of her. She was on the seventh floor. She put extra strength in her wooden toes. Eighth floor. Ninth floor. 10th floor. End of stairs. There was a hatch. She pulled the lever. Rain poured on her. She hopped through the hatch and landed on the roof. She closed the hatch. She scanned her surroundings. One possible roof jump ahead of her. And one impossible roof jump behind her. She doubted herself in her physical condition. She took the first stride. She slipped. Her feet lost contact with the building roof, and her back slid off the edge.
She grabbed onto the edge with her right hand. Almost losing grasp, she grabbed on the edge with her left hand too. The grunting noises began to eclipse the sound of rain. She tried to lessen her swaying and lunge her body to the side of the building. Lightning struck. She almost lost grasp again. She pulled herself up.
Leaflet’s feet came into contact with the building roof. She mentally implanted her feet to avoid slipping. She retried another first stride. Two stride. Three stride. She hopped the gap. Her feet were short of this building. Yet her hands caught the building. The aftershock of landing arched her back even more irregularly. She heard the hatch behind her open. She pulled herself up and turned back. Staring down Leaflet, Omega stood on two of his feet on the roof. He got on his fours. Leaflet panicked and pulled the lever of the building hatch. Crawling in the hatch and before closing it, she saw Omega hopped the gap in one stride on all-fours. He landed with two feet. He dove for the hatch, but Leaflet shut it closed. She shut her eyes close in anxiety. Omega tried to jiggle it open, but she maintained her grip on the lever inside the 10th story of the building. “Mother . . .” Omega said. “Please let me in.” She heard two more grunts land on the top of the roof.
“Us in,” another voice said. The jiggling strength doubled. Leaflet struggled to hold on, yet her strength persisted.
The jiggling stopped. Leaflet still held on.
Three grunts simultaneously loudened. The hatch itself disconnected from the building’s roof, and Leaflet was pulled up into the air as she maintained her grip with the lever. She saw all three animate humans. She let go and fell back into the building. She sprinted for the stairs. This staircase was different from the other building. It was a spiral staircase. An animate human dove into the hatch hole and landed steps away from Leaflet. It snarled instead of a grunt. It dove for Leaflet.
Leaflet hopped over the railing of the spiral staircase, falling vertically down the hole. The animate human dove over the railing. As she fell down, she saw the animate human become stuck in the circular hole due to its size. She looked down. Her trajectory slightly moved to the right. Her right hip banged onto the railing of the fifth floor. Her left hip hit the fourth-floor railing as she toppled over the railing and fell on her back on the stairs. She grabbed her hips. She winced as she failed to recover. She heard grunts of another animate human as footsteps crawled down the staircase.
“Help me get out of this!” a voice, six stories above, yelled.
“I’m trying my best here!” another voice, six stories above, yelled.
“She’s mine!” Omega, four stories above, yelled.
Leaflet jerked herself up. She jumped over the railing and down the circular hole again. She aimed her trajectory to land on her feet on the first floor.
She landed on both of her feet, withstanding the gravitational force with her fibrous ankles. She looked up. The animate human stuck in the circular hole had its arms wrapped by another animate human, struggling to pull him out of place.
Omega’s grunts were rampant and close. Leaflet made a run for it out of the building entrance. On a road that used to be dirt but turned to mud from the rain, she saw the prison was about half of a mile from her with some 20 buildings left with alleys. She knew the only place with the slightest sense of safety was back at the prison; specifically, the manure field, which is where Lee was. If she were to run straight, she’d arrive at the prison lobby doors. The ideal route was to go around the prison and enter the manure field from the back. To do that, she’d need to curve to her left. She’d throw them off through alley cuts. This was her route.
Leaflet sprinted down the mud road to the base of the building and made a left down an alley of two buildings. The grunting made its appearance outside. She committed down the alley. She turned right to make lateral distance with the prison. She sprinted down another mud road. “You think I can’t spot you without sight?!” Omega yelled. “You’re underestimating my olfaction! You never realized how truly gifted your son really was, huh?!” The grunts ended his dialogue.
Leaflet repeated this process of running mud roads in latitude and alleys in longitude. She completed this process three times. She was halfway across an alley. She looked back. Omega appeared outside of this alley crevice. He strode on all-fours. She breathed out in terror. She slipped on the mud. He entered the crevice. Placing all mechanical energy into her damaged hips and back, she propelled herself up and continued sprinting. Omega yelled, “Give your son a hug!” Leaflet’s mechanical fuel tank was almost on empty. Down the alley and across the mud road was the back of the infirmary. She dedicated every stride towards the infirmary.
She escaped the alley crevice. Too scared to turn back, she strode across the mud road. There were no doors in the back of the infirmary. There was only a large complex with an array of glass windows that stood five feet above the ground on the wall. She headed for the windows. Passing the width of the mud road, she devoted all of her energy into her last stride and jumped up five feet. She broke glass and dove into the interior of the infirmary, landing on her right shoulder. Too many of her branches had been mangled from physical falls and cut from glass. Inside was pitch black. The bleak brightness from the rainy outside barely illuminated the floor of the interior through the windows. Windows ran horizontally across all four walls of the complex.
Her mechanical energy tank was empty. She couldn’t get up. She crawled to her right on the cold tile floor. She tilted her head back to the shattered glass above her. The grunting noise grew vicious, louder, and quicker, morphing into a panting grunt. Omega dove into the window where Leaflet had originally shattered the glass. He landed on all-fours, a few feet further from where Leaflet had originally landed. She crawled to her right, moving herself across with her left arm. After a few crawling motions, she softly bumped into something. Only Omega’s disgusting legs appeared in the bleak brightness. She sealed her eyes hoping he didn’t spot her.
Omega’s legs entered the dark. “Mother,” he said. “This was where you and Father mated. This was the helm of my pre-creation.” He took a step. “It’s amazing how bendable the constraints of biology are. The coming together of two different species into one. It’s shocking.” Leaflet, without trying to emit noise, waved her left hand horizontally to feel the something that was blocking her crawling path. “You may be keen on my heightened olfaction; however, you might not be so keen on my heightened auditory receptors.” She felt the edge of the something. She grabbed onto it and pulled herself forward with her left hand. Her moist wooden chest squeaked across the wet tile floor. She immediately stopped all movement. Her body jittered from coldness, pain, and anxiety.
Omega released a grunt. He stepped and stepped. His steps seemed to grow quieter. He said, “Too bad you couldn’t have given me heightened vision. My hearing isn’t as keen as my smell. And your scent decreased quite a bit from being in the rain for a long time. You are one lucky plant.” He took another step. “But that’s okay. I’ll find you some time. You can’t conceal yourself in the darkness indefinitely.” Leaflet’s anxiety overtook coldness and pain.
Leaflet had no way to move without emitting noise. She didn't know what to do. She began to hopefully cry. “Son?” she asked. “Why are you doing this? Why don’t you love me?”
Omega stopped with the footsteps. “I knew you were going to talk sometime. Your voice is relatively far from me. Perhaps this supposed heightened auditory ability is nothing but a fluke. Perhaps a disadvantage. In any case, I know your location. I could immediately target you. But please, go on. I’m interested to learn more about how my other half would normally behave.”
Pain overtook her. She said, “What’s controlling you to behave this way? Do you really not feel any attachment to your mother?” Anxiety overtook her. “Please—please—please don’t hurt me! I love you no matter how evil you are! You are a part of me! You are loved!”
Omega laughed. “Loved? How can a concubine love her own production? There’s no substance in what you’re trying to refer to. I was simply born to murder your kind. What’s so complex about this that you don’t understand?”
Leaflet turned her shoulder and lay on her back. “You have no heightened abilities. You only have an inability to love! Nature didn’t want you to be born! That’s why you are biologically programmed to not operate in the flow of our world but only to destroy it!” She slowly stood up and cried uncontrollably. “Please look past this inability! Say no to nature! Break free from how you are programmed! Learn to love me! Love me! Please! Love me!”
Omega laughed again. “I’ll never understand your kind.” He gave out his loudest grunt and pounded the floor with a shake. Leaflet’s mechanical energy fuel had been filled partially. She took a huge stride to her right. She headed for the windows again. The ground shook in quicker intervals than her stride. Arriving by the window, she implanted her foot on the tile floor and dove through the glass. Huge spiders and light-green acid, oozing out of the jagged rock crevices, blocked her entire forefront. The spiders hung on clear webs attached to the roof of the infirmary and proximal trees. The terrain was rough. Past this forefront was the prison about a quarter of a mile away; specifically, the side of the cafeteria. There was no other route to avoid this forefront. She pursued forward with more strides.
The glass behind her shattered. Omega yelled, “I gave you a headstart! I was being easy on you! No more games from now on!” As Leaflet hopped on the rocks, he shook the ground as he clamped the floor with his strides. Hopping from unleveled rock to another, Leaflet avoided the chasms. Omega continued stomping but halted his vocal grunts. “We have a fun playground ahead of us. The famous thlavic chasms and renowned avahlts. I may not be gifted in loving as you say, but I am certainly more than gifted in physical maneuvering. There’s no escaping from here.”
Leaflet was perched on top of a high-leveled rock that was separated from a low-leveled rock by a long chasm. She took one stride. Two stride. Half of the surface area of the base of her fibrous left foot landed on the jagged rock, cutting her foot inches deep. Her green eyes reflected a lighter glow from the acid as her tears burst from the pain. She caught her momentum with her right foot. She looked back. Omega was almost 10 rocks behind her. The farther forward she strode, the bigger the chasms got. She hopped from the low-leveled rock to another high-leveled rock with her right foot. The chasm wasn’t as big, but landing on her left foot left her in even more pain. She turned back again. Omega was around five-to-six rocks behind her. She hopped to another rock. And then another. The chasms began to take such great shape that an acidic lake began to take over this shape. The next rock she had to jump was the biggest gap. She took one stride. Two stride. Three stride. She landed on the rock with her right foot, yet she wasn’t able to land her left foot to stop the momentum. The rock itself moved and carried her momentum. The rock glided on the thlavic acid. She panicked. Almost losing balance, she followed the horizontal movement and surfed the rock with her left foot. She maintained balance. The rock stopped moving. There were no chasms beyond this point. Only floating rocks in a thlavic lake. She looked back. Omega, still hopping on all-fours, was on the third-to-last chasm from the lake. “Losing balance? That’s very sad. Too bad you weren’t born with an enhanced vestibular gland. My balance can’t be outmatched.” She continued forward. The rocks were getting smaller. She took one stride. She landed on the next rock with her right foot. She surfed it. She looked back. Omega hopped the last chasm. He followed the same pattern of rocks she stepped on.
The rock trembled with Leaflet’s dying and feeble body. She was on the verge of giving out at any moment. Leaflet formed an idea. She waited for him. Omega hopped the first floating rock. “You give up? Don’t think about jumping into the acid. I at least deserve the satisfaction of the kill.” She waited. “I respect your willingness to accept defeat. Goodbye, Mother.” Taking a gigantic stride on all-fours, he dove for her. At the same time, she took a big stride and hopped to the next rock. She propelled his rock back, sending Omega to overcalculate his jumping force. She landed on her next rock with her right foot. Omega’s two feet and knees landed on his rock, but his entire upper body fell in the acid. He caught his momentum by leaning his upper body under the rock and grabbing onto the bottom end of the rock with his hands, the same end his feet were on. His head and arms burned in the acid. Positioning his feet adjacent to the rock’s end, he lunged his upper body up, revealing his deteriorating head and arms. The skin and skull on Omega’s face melted off, including his eyes, ears, nose, and venus-flytrap mouth. The frontal and parietal lobes of his brain appeared out of his partially-melted skull. The rain added to the burning sensation. His two arms only flaunted bone and a few ligaments. He pressed his boney arms against the rock and situated all of his limbs onto the rock. He stood up with his two feet. Leaflet was beyond horrified. Her son only had a brain for a face. She screamed. Yet she continued forward. “I may not have the flesh for a mouth, yet my fibrous branchy skin protected my neck and vocal cords. And while I may not possess the ability to see, I still have access to my olfactory bulb without the need for a fleshy nose. I can smell your scent. But I better speed up the process before the rain eradicates your scent.” He hopped on the next rock with his two feet. “As I said, I can triangulate your movement from your past scent locations.” Leaflet’s green eyes dilated. She immediately hopped to the next rock. Anxiety overtook pain and coldness indefinitely. The gaps between rocks widened, but there were only five more before the lake ended. Her mechanical energy tank was almost empty. She channeled all of her energy into her legs. Each stride became one hop. One stride. One hop. Two stride. Two hop. Three stride. Three hop. Four stride. Four hop. Five stride. Five hop. Half of the base of her left fibrous foot landed on the jagged, firm rock. She caught her momentum with her right foot. Her whole body fell on the rock. Both of her feet were severely cut.
Pain temporarily overtook the coldness and indefinite anxiety. She screamed, “FUUUUUCCCCKK!” She turned back. Faceless Omega was on the third hop. Indefinite anxiety retook the throne. She had to get up. Fourth hop. Omega's right foot landed on the rock, yet his left foot dipped in the acid for a temporary second as he bent down from the landing. She tried to get up. Fifth hop. He landed on his left knee, and his right leg dipped in the acid for a temporary three seconds. All four of his limbs had partially deteriorated. His wooden legs and feet were only bone and a few ligaments. She got up. She could only apply pressure on the ground one foot at a time. She hopped on one foot. Pain and anxiety shared the throne. Her tank only had a sliver of mechanical energy remaining.
Omega said, “Too bad you have a sense of pain. My limbs may be immobile, but that doesn’t mean I myself am immobile.” He began to do a worm-like motion with his mega-upper-body-strength. He continued to chase her. She couldn’t believe it. She increased the distance of her hops. Using his mega-strength towards his mid-body, he matched the same distance of her stride. One stride. Equal stride.
Leaflet saw the metal fence of the manure field. She was less than 100 feet away. She kept her speed. “I have to admit,” Omega said. “I may have miscalculated a few things. But that’s alright because you have nowhere to escape. It will be impossible for you to hop the fence in your condition.” She screamed as she hopped on each foot. Her hops increased in speed. She soon began running on both feet. Her anxiety helped her manage the influx of pain. She began sprinting.
Omega began to grunt. He increased the speed of his worm-like strides. She was 20 feet away from the metal fence. She looked back. He was a few feet away from her. Omega said, “You’re running out of energy.”
Leaflet dedicated her last grain of mechanical energy towards one last final stride. She hopped and clung onto the 10-foot fence. She was two feet below the electric fence. Raising her right arm, she clung onto the electric fence. Electricity ran through her entire body. Her wood began to crisp. Her limbs caught fire. All of her body caught fire. She screamed with the current. She clung with her left hand, creating a closed circuit. Her insides began to flame. Her green eyes began to redden. She pulled herself up. Her upper body reached above the fence. She let go of the fence and fell into the manure field. The electricity stopped flowing through her. The rain slowly began to put out her fire. Ashes floated out of her branchy crevices. Her mechanical energy tank was beyond empty. It was negative. The aftershock of electricity superseded all of her coldness, pain, and anxiety. She cried as she felt her entire body burn. She looked at her morbidly-disfigured son past the fence. Omega had become an inanimate human. He said, “You haven’t escaped.” He took a ginormous stride and hopped the fence with his worm-like catapult. He landed on top of her. His brain juices slobbered all over her face. He raised his boney arm and shape-shifted his last ligaments into a sharp-edged fiber. He slashed Leaflet’s burning insides.
Leaflet screamed at the top of her lungs. “HELLLLPPP MEEE!”
Omega slashed again. Leaflet jolted her body up and down and cried. Pain was her ruler. This moment was the highest threshold of pain she ever felt. Burned, motionless, and mangled, she suffered more slashes on the wet manure. She was on the brink of death.
The exposed-brain creature was punched in the frontal lobe. Omega grunted and strode in his worm-like motion away.
“Help me, Dotor!” a voice yelled.
“Rose, relax!” another voice yelled.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ANDREW RUTANO
“DON’T USE THE CONVERTERS!” Andrew screamed, still lying weak on the floor next to Enzo’s dead body. The noise level could only be heard by Shruburb’s, Natasha’s, and his ears. It began to rain.
“You’re too late!” Natasha yelled, entangled with branches against the metal fence. “The depleted will all end up like Enzo!”
A deafening clicking sound went off across the entire manure field. Andrew covered his ears as the short-lasting sound came to a stop. Andrew cleared out his bloody septum. “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!” He took his hands away from his ears.
The prison intercom noise went off. “All humans, please remain calm, and try your best to stay away from all animate plants as the genocide process initiates itself.” The manure floor rumbled. Grunts superseded the noise of the white garment’s screams.
Andrew’s inferior oblique muscles in his eyes raised themselves as his eyebrows lowered. “Shruburb?! What did they say?!”
“Get up, Andrew,” Shruburb said. The grunts grew louder. “GET UP, ANDREW!”
Andrew screamed, “I CAN’T!” The first animate human appeared in Andrew’s vision in the sea of white garments. The monster pounced in Andrew’s direction.
Andrew screamed, “SHRUBURB! RUN!” Andrew battled his volition to stay on the floor. He bit his jaw forward. He dug his hands into the manure and pushed the ground of Nirvana 74. A guard shot the charging animate human. The monster changed its course.
“I’m not leaving you here to die!” Shruburb yelled. The animate human with its claws slashed the guard’s red pipe that ran up his neck. The animate human ignored this bloody detour and shifted back to its original course.
“It’s not after me!” Andrew yelled. He got up. “It’s after you!” The animate human leapt over Andrew, landing on Enzo’s cracked cranium. It tackled Shruburb.
Andrew charged at the animate human. Without turning its back, the animate human sliced at Andrew’s wrist. His right hand dropped. More blood spewed out of his arm than the guard’s red chest pipe. He screamed.
Avoiding two bloody detours, the animate human slashed Shruburb’s insides. Andrew grabbed onto his right dangling flesh and fell on the manure floor again. “SHRUBURB!” More animate human feet appeared in the sea of white garments. More gunshots went off.
Shruburb screamed, “GET OFF ME!” Two more animate humans leapt over Andrew. They slashed Shruburb thrice more.
Andrew snorted blood while simultaneously instigating noise through his vocal tract. He moaned in cries. He helplessly again screamed, “SHRUBURB!” Every stimulant in his periphery was more blaring than the other. His detached right hand rested on Enzo’s cracked cranium. Shruburb’s body stopped resisting, and his screams ended. The three animate humans turned away from his body. They leapt over Andrew and grunted away.
Shruburb’s insides were distributed across the manure floor and spread onto Enzo’s body. The screams of the white garment hoard surrounding Alonzo entered Andrew’s ears again. Hemoglobin escaped out of Andrew’s right arm. Andrew struggled to get up. An animate human dove onto a guard’s back. The guard tried to push him off, but the animate human managed to unscrew the guard’s Hub and rip out his temporal lobe and dead artificial nerves.
Past the sea of white garments, Andrew saw a familiar family-oriented face. It was his brother, Marco from 100 feet away. He limped greatly and pushed the white garments as he ran towards Andrew’s proximity. Andrew yelled, “Marco!” Andrew smiled as his iron levels decreased. Having not seen his brother since the physical world, he couldn’t wait to be saved and reunited with Marco in the Spirit World. 50 feet away, Andrew saw a more defined version of Marco’s angered face. Marco’s eyes squinted faster than his teeth chattered, and his back was slouched. Andrew’s smile lessened. Marco raised a fist. “Marco?!” 25 feet away, Marco screamed and sprinted faster. Andrew couldn’t tell if he was charging at a guard or him. 12.5 feet away, Marco raised two fists. Andrew got up. In parallel, a guard bit off a white garment’s ear. The white garment ripped off the guard’s upper lip, yet the guard shot him in the head soon after.
Marco grabbed Andrew’s neck with two hands and pummeled him to the manure floor. Marco’s whole body vibrated and discombobulated. Andrew couldn’t breathe. Using his only hand, Andrew poked Marco in the eyes. Marco didn’t react. Andrew pressed Marco's eyes tighter. Marco still didn’t react. Andrew popped Marco’s eyeballs out of his eye sockets. Still no reaction. Marco still maintained his grasp as blood from his eyes dropped on Andrew’s eyes. Andrew grabbed onto Marco’s neck and tried to nudge him away. This nudge managed to throw Marco to the side and lose grasp of his neck. Andrew’s pharynx was filled with air. Andrew was greeted by another familiar family-oriented face. It was his mother, Marie. She dove and directed a knife at Andrew’s head. Andrew impulsively covered his head with his right arm. His right arm was trimmed even shorter now. Andrew screamed. She slowly raised her knife again. Before she could make a downward motion again, Andrew rolled the opposite side of where he threw Max. In parallel, a white garment hung on an animate plant’s back, trying to topple it down. The animate plant enwrapped its branches around the white garment’s arms and pushed him to the manure floor.
Marie knifed the manure floor. She cried, “I’m sorry!” She raised the knife. Andrew tried pushing himself up with his left hand. His entire right arm went numb. “I don’t want to do this, Andrew! My mind is possessed! Please stop me!” Andrew got up one last time. She swung her knife at his head. He dodged it. “Kill me before I kill you!” Andrew began to feel light-headed as blood continued to leave his system. Andrew heard Marco laugh maniacally as he rose from the manure floor. Marco swung his fist at Andrew’s head. He missed without Andrew needing to dodge. Andrew punched Marco with his non-dominant hand. The force was weak, yet Marco’s discombobulating body was weaker, sending him to the manure floor. In parallel, an animate plant had its arms wrapped around a guard’s eyes and shape-shifted its branches into his eyes. Blind, the guard blankly shot the animate plant’s head.
Andrew cried, “Why are you guys doing this?!” He struggled to stop his lips and eyelashes from jittering. “I’m not going to kill you guys!” Marie swung another knife but horizontally this time. It skinned Andrew’s white garments. Andrew squeezed on his right dangling flesh with his left hand to stop the bleeding. Marco lay on the ground still laughing as blood escaped his nose. “I can’t handle this!” In parallel, five guards encircled one animate plant and repeatedly shot at it. The animate human slashed two of the guards, but its strong cranium cracked from too much bullet penetration.
“It’s your father!” Marie yelled. She cradled her knife and missed another knife swing. “You won’t be able to stop or escape from us! Robert programmed us to kill you!” Andrew continued to dodge. He didn’t know what to do again. He wanted to save them. And he wanted to save himself. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t fight. He could only wait. In parallel, an animate human tore off the arms of a white garment, originally having his arms protecting an animate plant child. The animate human sliced off the white garment’s head.
Andrew screamed, “WHAT DO I DO?!” He let go of his right dangling flesh and slapped his palm on his forehead. Blood resumed its flooding. He moaned a deep breath. Marco stood up. He charged at Andrew and landed a feeble punch on Andrew’s face. Coming in to complement another attack, Marie swung her knife horizontally. It wedged itself between the skin of Andrew’s left thumb and index finger. “FUUUCCKK!” Flexing every muscle in his hand, Andrew wrapped his four fingers over the knife and his thumb. He clenched the knife and threw it to the side. He didn’t have another hand to stop the bleeding of his left hand. Marie chased after the knife. Marco landed a stronger punch on Andrew. Andrew’s vision blackened from his loss of blood. He fell on the manure field. He slowly regained some of his vision. He was losing too much blood from his arms. In parallel, a depleted white garment, losing its balance, had a guard in a chokehold. The depleted white garment lost footing, and the guard shot the depleted brain.
“ANDREW!” Andrew heard Kevin’s voice. Kevin landed a very forceful punch on Marco. Marco fell on the manure floor. In parallel, a guard chased an animate plant against the metal fence. Grabbing the electric fence, the animate plant burned as the guard shot him in its ashy insides.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ROBERT RUTANO
Robert watched a screen in the irregular room of the Experimentation Room. A screen that cast everything going on the manure field. He changed camera angles by turning a dial on his Navigator that switched the visual cortex converter projection on the screen of the Sentinel and Myriad. He switched to Sentinel Guard #1241, who was in close proximity to Andrew, Marco, and Marie. He saw Andrew's lying body and arms bleeding in the background. In the forefront, the guard was shooting aimlessly at every animate creature, including white garments, animate plants, animate humans, and other guards. He smiled. He relaxed on his king-sized bed. None of the strippers were present since Robert had sent them out on the manure field to die. Horace, Zim, Conley, and Bandu stood alongside each other to the side of the leftmost bed.
“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you to install Hubs for my Myriad,” General Wayne said. Robert looked to his right. A gun was pointed at his head.
“Hey!” Bandu yelled. Before the executive security guards pulled out their guns, Robert raised his left hand in a stop motion. Horace had his hand on his cane.
Robert said, “Let me hear what he has to say.” The executive security guards let go of their guns.
General Wayne said, “I’m the one who is lucid now, Bobby.” He stepped closer. “You really don’t think I know what’s going on? You only resuscitated me for my men! They wouldn’t have agreed to follow through with your Hubs if it wasn’t for my command. If I had been completely lucid, I would never have given the go-ahead. You took full advantage of my forgetful vulnerability. My question though. Why would you go through the trouble of establishing a fiscal endeavor of creating the Spirit World with me if all you were going to do was backstab me? Another question though. Why would you go through the trouble of implanting memories if all you needed me to do was say a simple ‘yes’ without me needing to gain lucidity? Last question though. Why would you have me eternally suffer in the nothing dimension where I floated consciously in a dark void? It traumatized me insurmountably. Do you just like to toy around with people? Are you just so evil that you find other people’s suffering comical? We never agreed to install Hubs into people when we would rule the Spirit World. Our original plan was to rule them physically. Our plan was never to control them neurochemically. That’s beyond evil. It’s more depriving than anything!”
Bobby put his left hand down calmly. He said, “I admit I did not need to reinstate your full mental state with your memories. However, I missed you, Howie. I thought you would be more than appreciative of this world that I’m saving.”
“Saving?” Howie said. “Your mind is more than fucked up. Thinking back on my own life, I was fucked up too. The fact that I never pushed you to pursue a world of good with your scientific inventions and instead gave in to your convoluted mind of world domination will continually haunt me in this second life of mine. To think that you are neurochemically destroying people instead of neurochemically solving every known mental disorder is devastating for this world. You couldn’t even solve your own mental disorder. You’ve created a world of horror with that brain of yours.”
Bobby asked, “So what do you plan to accomplish if you shoot me?”
Howie said, “I’m gonna save this last world of humanity before you destroy it.”
“And how would you possibly do that?”
“I—I—I would cure them neurochemically by—”
“I control every man, woman, and child neurochemically with my Navigator. I exterminated oxytocin, substance P, and glutamate from all of my guards, including yours. If I were to die, my Navigator would deactivate, rendering your plan useless.”
“Forget that then. You may have already destroyed this world, but I can stop you from further destroying it even more. Killing you is enough already for me.”
“You’re forgetting one more thing.”
“I’m not forgetting anything. Ever since the day we met, you’ve forgotten that I remember everything.” General Wayne shot. The bullet punctured the skin of Robert’s forehead, yet his titanium skull stopped the bullet’s momentum.
Robert said, “You can’t form new memories in your second life. If you could, you would’ve remembered that Keith Konrad’s attempt to slaughter me was a destined failure. This time when you die, don’t worry. Your consciousness won’t traverse across a dimension of nothingness.” He galvanized his right robotic hand and spewed liquid titanium at General Wayne’s face. General Wayne reenacted the past physical motions of Thom. He covered his face and fell to the granite floor as he screamed. Robert continued to spew titanium all over General Wayne’s discombobulating body in a top-down manner. He draped him in a complete coat of titanium. General Wayne’s discombobulation came to a quicker stop than Thom’s. He died. Robert continued to spew titanium post-death.
Horace yelled, “Monarch!” Robert turned to his left. Zim’s right arm was sliced off by Horace’s cane. “Backstabbers!” Conley shot Robert’s right levator scapulae muscle on his neck. Robert immediately rolled off the bed to the right, falling next to General Wayne’s cocoon of titanium. He galvanized his robotic hand and applied a thin coat of titanium on the wound to stop the bleeding. He navigated his Navigator to the neurotransmitter converter levels of Zim, Conley, and Bandu. He adjusted all of their neurotransmitters to zero. Zim, Conley, and Bandu had taken out their neurotransmitter converters before any of this. His Navigator had zero effect on them. Robert navigated to the Backstabbers. He signaled them on. Robert heard Bandu scream. Conley and Zim didn’t make a peep. He had forgotten to install Backstabbers in them. Conley dove over the bed and fell next to the cocoon. He revealed a knife with a blade longer than Horace’s cane.
Conley sliced Robert’s left hand off. Robert didn’t react. He stood up. He galvanized his other hand and spewed titanium at Conley’s face. Conley ducked under it. Conley raised his knife with both of his hands and directed it horizontally at Robert’s neck. Robert ducked under it.
Robert said, “Separating the heart from the brain without penetrating the titanium chambers. Smart.” Grabbing the top blanket off the king-sized bed, he galvanized the blanket and threw it over Conley’s head. Knife and body under the blanket, Conley charged forward at Robert.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: MAXWELL RUTANO
“Where did my target go?” the guard who had missed Max with a gun said.
Terry carried Max over his right shoulder. Harriet ran adjacent to Terry in the sea of white garments. Max resisted Terry’s grab, almost knocking off Terry’s green eyeglasses.
Max cried, “Why can I never save myself?!”
“Calm down, Max!” Harriet yelled.
Terry yelled, “Stop resisting!”
Max yelled, “Put me down! I’ve been nothing but a useless vegetable!” The guard shot his gun. No impact on Terry, Harriet, or Max.
Terry yelled, “If you really want me to put you down, I will!”
Harriet yelled, “No! Don’t!” Terry did a 360-degree spin through a wedge of two white garments. The guard shot again. The white garment on the left side of the wedge was shot in the head.
Terry strafed left, Harriet still following. Harriet yelled, “Max! Please! We’re trying to save you!”
Max yelled, “That’s the problem!” He slapped Terry on the head and pushed off his back. He strafed right and ran away.
Harriet screamed, “MAX!”
Max mixed in with the sea of white garments. Terry and Harriet were out of his sight. Max was out of sight from Harriet and Terry. He lost them. He was lost.
Reality started.
He saw an animate plant run past him as a guard chased it. He heard the plant get shot.
He saw an animate plant lay on the floor with its branchy legs torn off looking over Max’s shoulders in fear. He heard a grunt behind him. He felt an animate human grab his neck and launch him 15 feet in the air.
He saw a depleted white garment run for the metal fence. He heard the white garment scream in a radically-changing pitch. He felt a guard shove him as the guard chased the white garment. He smelled the white garment’s brain being fried from contact with the electric fence.
He saw a guard aim a gun at his head. He heard him say, “Hello, child.” He felt the guard grab his hair and push his face into a thlavic-webbed discombobulated brain of a white garment. He smelled the manure. He tasted the brain’s blood.
He saw the guard leave him.
He perceived his sister, Lisa, crawled up in a ball and staring up at the rain in fear.
Reality ended.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: LEAFLET
It stopped raining.“We can’t just leave her here!” Rose yelled.
“Since when did you share sympathy for animate plants?!” Dotor yelled. “We don’t have the time to save her!”
“Have some compassion!” Rose picked up Leaflet and carried her on her back.
Dotor yelled, “Do you know how much of a target that makes us?! What the fuck are you thinking?!”
Rose yelled, “I’m thinking about doing something kind for once!”
“You chose the worst time to do something like this! We still need to find Andrew!”
Rose said, “I don’t care. And if we find him, we find him.”
A grunt ignited.
Leaflet looked behind. Out in the open manure, next to the metal fence, and 30 feet away from the sea of white garments, she saw an animate human leap out of the sea.
Landing 10 feet away in front of them, the animate human pounced on all-fours straight at them. The animate human dove and swung its claws for Leaflet. Rose twirled with Leaflet on her back and dodged the animate human in action. Leaflet felt a surge of fear override her pain in reaction. Rose headed for the sea of white garments while Leaflet still had her eyes on the monster.
15 feet behind them, the animate human shifted its body around and strode after them. The animate human dove in for a tackle. Rose swayed her body to the right by applying all of her body weight on her left foot for a side-stride in action. Leaflet panicked and screamed in reaction. Halfway between the sea and fence, Rose diverted her direction back to the sea.
10 feet behind them, the animate human dove for a final time. The animate human peeled off Leaflet’s ashy back with its claws. Rose still sprinted forward in action. Leaflet screeched as pain overtook the throne in reaction. Rose entered the sea of white garments.
Five feet away from the sea of white garments, the animate human dove inside the sea. The animate human reached both of its claws out. Rose evaded its attack and lunged left in action. Leaflet continued to cry in reaction. Rose headed towards the deeper end of the sea.
They escaped the animate human.
Directly in front of them, a pack of depleted white garments punched each other. A white garment threw a punch for Rose. Rose veered away from this punch and sprung through the pack in action. Leaflet wanted to let go of Rose’s back due to the painful throne in reaction. Rose headed deeper inside the sea.
They escaped the pack.
Clouding their right peripheral, a guard who held a taser ran parallel to Rose’s strides. The guard aimed his taser at Rose’s Hub. Rose ducked and the taser landed on another white garment’s Hub to her left peripheral in action. Leaflet was traumatized by the sight of electricity again in reaction. Rose ran perpendicular to the guard.
They escaped the guard. They had also escaped Dotor ever since they escaped the animate human.
However, Leaflet saw Dotor again. 50 feet away from them in the midst of the sea chaos, Dotor had his hands grasped a boy. The boy was resisting. A girl crawled up in a ball and stared at the manure floor.
Rose directed her movement toward Dotor. She accidentally stepped on a thlavic-webbed discombobulated brain. She said, “I’m coming!”
Leaflet attempted to pause all pain and terror. She asked, “Why is he tying up these poor children?” Rose continued to sprint through the sea without a response. The increased number of dead white garments, guards, animate plants, and animate humans decreased the number of persistent screams. “Answer me!”
“It’s not on your agenda!” Rose yelled. She stepped over a decapitated animate plant. 25 feet away.
The boy screamed and resisted Dotor. The girl sat helplessly. Leaflet directed her voice to Dotor. “Let go of them!” Dotor used a sliver of a branchy animate plant arm as a rope to tie the boy’s hands. 10 feet away.
Leaflet let go of Rose’s back and sprinted past her straight at Dotor. Vigilance overtook the throne of pain and tenor. She strode. One stride. Two stride. Three stride. She tackled Dotor before he could tie the boy’s hands completely. She punched Dotor weakly. Dotor kicked her burnt body off.
The boy screamed, “I’LL SAVE US, LISA!” The boy sprinted at lying Dotor. Before Leaflet could see the boy’s attack, Rose grabbed her by the back and punched her face. Leaflet’s mechanical energy tank had been negative since the start. She could only accept punches. Her vigilance couldn’t make up for the fuel. The boy continued to scream. “I’LL STOP BEING USELESS! I’LL FIGHT FOR US UNTIL I DIE!” Leaflet was punched again. She cried.
The punches stopped. Rose was tackled to the side by a young lady. The lady yelled, “Who captures a pair of innocent children?!” The lady punched Rose. A man with green glasses hopped over Leaflet’s body and grabbed onto the white collar of the lady. He threw her to the side. The lady yelled, “Terry, what are you doing?!”
The green-glassed man yelled, “Getting our revenge as Spirit Radicals!”
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ANDREW RUTANO
Andrew screamed, “DON’T KILL HIM!”
Kevin took his hands off Marco. Marco’s nose and mouth seemed to blend into one bloody shape as he lay on the floor. Kevin yelled, “What the fuck is going on?!”
Andrew yelled, “He’s my brother!”
“Andrew . . .” Rufus said. “You’re bleeding. Bad.”
A knife poked out of Rufus’ heart. Marie’s face rested on his right shoulder. Marie’s face winced. She screamed, “PLEASE STOP ME BEFORE I KILL YOU, ANDREW!” She pulled the knife out of Rufus. Rufus dropped dead. She charged at lying Andrew.
Marco stood up. He sprinted towards Andrew and stepped in front of him.
A knife poked out of Marco’s discombobulating heart. Marie screamed in terror. She pulled the knife. Marco dropped dead.
“Is this real?” Andrew asked weakly. He was at a loss for words and blood.
Marie charged at Andrew. No one was in her way or could get in her way. “ANDREW!” Kevin screamed.
Andrew closed his eyes awaiting his death. Death didn’t strike. He waited. Yet it still didn’t strike. He opened his eyes.
The knife floated next to his head. Two hands shaking the floating blade. Marie’s eyes squinted with tears, body shook with fear, jaw jittered with sadness, and lips smiled with blood. Full body discombobulation. She screamed, “I HOLD THE POWER OVER MY MIND!” She reversed the blade’s direction and struck her heart. Marie dropped dead.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ROBERT RUTANO
Robert ducked beside the leftmost bed of the irregular room. His galvanic titanium stimulator chamber had run out of titanium. He reached with his robotic arm for the last titanium pellet he kept attached to his left leg. He was losing blood quickly from his left arm. He failed to insert the pellet inside the chamber due to its location being the forearm region of his robotic arm. He put the pellet in his mouth and bit on it.
“Robert!” Conley yelled. “For an old man, you fight like a cheater!” Robert began to sweat. He dropped the pellet for the chamber. It missed. “Zim?! Bandu?! Are you guys alive?!”
No response.
Robert bit down on the pellet again. He dropped the pellet. It landed inside the chamber. Robert closed his robotic fist and exhaled.
He peeked over the bed. Conley’s legs were drenched and stuck in liquid titanium. General Wayne’s dead body lay adjacent to him. Conley had his hand reaching out for General Wayne’s gun. Robert fully stood up. He walked around the bed slowly and looked into the eyes of Conley. He said, “You all thought you could take out the old man, huh?” Conley’s arm shivered for the gun in close proximity. Robert’s feet stood next to the gun. “It was silly of me to have forgotten to install two more Backstabbers for two more backstabbers. Maybe Howie was right. My memory seems to worsen the older I get.” He spewed a puddle of titanium on Conley’s trembling hand. He screamed from the burn. “But maybe . . .” He stepped on the gun. “Maybe I knew all about your plan. Maybe I enjoy playing a good match with worthy opponents. Yet you three were not worthy in the slightest. You failed miserably. And those who fail miserably fall in the hands of fate. Which is me.” He took his foot off the gun and picked it up. He shot Conley in the head.
Robert heard a gun being reloaded behind him. He turned around. Next to the wall separating the room full of strippers and bed, Zim lay on the floor with only a right leg and a left arm. Zim picked up the reloaded gun and aimed it at Robert.
Zim was shot in the head. Robert turned around again. By the entrance of the Experimentation Room, Fabian stood holding a gun. Blood dropped out of his revealing temporal lobe. His Hub was nonexistent. It had been pulled out.
Robert stood motionless. Robert said, “You really forgot to disable neurotransmitter extermination from my Hub from the rest of the guard. What the fuck is wrong with you? Regaining my substance P back was not fun especially when I have the hemorrhage the size of the fucking Grand Canyon in my skull and brain.”
“Thank you for saving me,” Robert said. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix you up as soon as I clean up a few things.”
“You might wanna start with that trail of blood,” Fabian said. “And you’re welcome you old fuck.”
Robert nodded and followed the trail of blood that exited the Experimentation Room. It was Bandu’s.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: MAXWELL RUTANO
Max’s hands were tied up. He cried at the top of his lungs. He screamed, “I’M A FAILURE!” Tied up next to Max, Lisa sobbed silently.
Terry had Max tied up. Rose had Lisa and the last animate plant alive tied up. Dotor had Harriet tied up.
Harriet cried too. She yelled, “Fuck you, Terry! Manipulative scumbags!”
Dotor said, “This isn’t personal. If you have anyone to blame, blame Andrew. He killed our leader Wallace. This is nothing but simple revenge. Don’t overthink it.”
Max gave up mentally and physically. He failed his sister. He failed his father. He failed himself.
The deafening clicking sound went off again. All of the guards regained their normal neurotransmitter levels back. This loud noise made Max scan his environment. All animate plants were dead. All animate humans and guards stopped fighting. Every white garment who attempted to escape the prison or rebel was dead. All of the depleted white garments were either unconscious or dead of thlavic-webbed brain discombobulation. The rest of the white garments sat traumatized on the manure, analogous to Lisa a few moments ago.
Max heard a new footstep. He looked to his right. It was Lee. He held a gun. He distributed aim to all three Spirit Radicals. He said. “Untie them.”
Terry said, “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m the only person with a gun here,” Lee said. “I’m here to follow through with my promise. Two promises.”
Dotor said, “We could easily take you—”
“You three can’t do shit! I can end your lives right now, but I’m being humanely generous! Now untie them or I will!”
“Fuck!” Dotor yelled. “Fine.” Terry grabbed onto Max’s rope.
“I can’t believe you came, Lee! I love you so much!” Leaflet yelled.
Lee, putting his gun down, said, “I love you too.”
Terry let go of Max’s still-tied rope.
A grunt emanated.
Behind Lee, a limbless exposed-brain animate human hopped and bounced in huge strides with its worm-like motion.
The animate plant screamed, “LEEEE!”
Dotor said, “It’s back again?”
Lee turned around. The animate human catapulted itself and landed on Lee’s face. The monster unsheathed a shape-shifted fibrous blade. Before Lee could get up, the blade sliced off his head.
The animate plant screamed in sorrowful pain. The animate human said, “I never forget a person’s scent. You’re next.” The monster catapulted itself on the animate plant’s face. In the middle of a scream, the animate plant’s ashy head was decapitated.
The animate human catapulted itself away from Max’s vision.
CONSCIOUSNESS TARGET: ANDREW RUTANO
Andrew lay on the manure. Kevin sat next to him.
Andrew said, “I’m a horrible person.” He lost all energy to cry or move. He was an animate creature awaiting inanimacy.
Kevin cried, “What hell are we living in?!”
“You’re living in my hell,” Robert said. He stood above Andrew’s lying body. “Do you wish to know why I built, what you say, this hell?”
Kevin looked up at the new speaker. He jumped up. He placed his hands around Robert’s neck and choked him. He yelled, “Fuck you! Life-destroyer!”
Robert galvanized his only hand and spewed titanium into Kevin’s face. Kevin fell to the manure floor. Robert covered him into a titanium cocoon until Kevin’s body stopped moving.
Robert said, “This is getting old. At least someone found my physical weak point after all of this time.” He kneeled down to Andrew.
Andrew lay emotionless. He couldn’t speak or act or feel. He could only breathe.
Robert said, “Now that I have you with me, I might as well share with you why I created this world.” He sat down on the manure. “I created this world to feel. With my neurochemistry, I don’t possess the ability to feel or share a sense of empathy that most people have. I’ll get to the gist.” He coughed up a bit of blood. “Inside each person’s Hub is a special neuro-converter that no one knows about. It’s an Empathizer. It accumulates and collects oxytocin from a person and transmits this neurotransmitter energy to my Hub. This neurotransmitter energy can only be collected when there’s, what I call, a ‘Witness of Suffering’. When a person empathizes with someone’s pain, oxytocin is naturally released in their brain. This is how I accumulate my source of oxytocin. This is how I feel. This is why so many people suffered. This is why I created monsters. Animate humans. Oxytocin-less guards. Dopaminergic-depleted inmates. This is why I committed genocide on all animate plants. Every person in that manure field with a somewhat normal brain felt a flourish of oxytocin for their loved ones. And I embellish on this feeling. I crave this feeling. Feeling makes me feel younger to when I wasn’t a psychopath. When I had a normal brain that could experience simple, but great, feelings of life. I unfortunately never figured out a way to create artificial precursor cells for oxytocin. With the neurotransmitter converter, I could lower it but I couldn’t create it.” He put his hand on Andrew’s left shoulder. “I have another reason for doing all of this. I may have been doing all of this to benefit me, but in reality, I was also doing it to benefit you. I want you to suffer. I want you to feel what it’s like to have zero emotions. I want you to be like me. I want you to empathize with zero empathy.”
Alonzo flew in on his fleshy jetpack and landed next to Robert. Alonzo said, “How’d I do, Monarch?”
“Fantastic work,” Robert said. “You’ve completed your mission successfully. You also came at a great time. I was in the middle of discussing with my son why I did all of this.”
Alonzo said, “What the fuck happened to your arm?”
“I had a little issue with Backstabbers. They—”
“Was it Zim, Conley, and Bandu?”
“Yes. And General Wayne and even Gordin. Gordin’s death is the most comedic. He hid behind my desk in my office, waiting for me to come out of the Experimentation Room. He cried pathetically, having a gun aimed at my head, and he asked me if General Wayne was okay. Before I could answer, Fabian peeked out of the room and luckily shot him down for me.”
“They were all neurotic,” Alonzo said. “I’m glad that at least you’re okay.” He fixed his posture. “Did you tell Andrew that it was his fault for all the depleted inmate deaths?”
“I actually didn’t,” Robert said. “But I’m happy you brought that up. Why don’t you tell him all about my next venture?”
Alonzo smiled. “Yeah so anyway . . . remember those Consciousness Inversion keys? Those were legitimate converters, but they—” He laughed. “They didn't send you to a utopia-like dimension or any of that shit. They send you to the Psychozone. Which is basically a physical dimension for your mental world. A world where physical manipulations change your psychology. That’s the simplest I can put it. It’s a pretty fucking complicated project. I don’t even understand most of it.” He took a deep breath to control his laughs. “But all in all, we planned for you to inadvertently distribute those keys so you would be responsible for their death or unconsciousness.”
Robert said, “You forgot to bring up the thlavic principles and what the aquaritorium was actually used for.”
Alonzo laughed again. “My fault. When the Consciousness Inversion converter is inserted, a baby avalht spider, nestled in a little pouch inside the Hub, produces a white matter tract of thlava that channels the consciousness singularity to—. I don’t know. It’s complicated stuff. But if your brain moves when you are in the Psychozone, your head discombobulates due to the thlava being an impenetrable force.” He took a pause. “And as for the aquaritorium . . . the ‘Social Status Test’ was actually something much bigger. Correct me if I’m wrong, Monarch, but wasn’t it called Parallel Artificial Neuronal Transcription Pathing.” He sat down. “So yeah. The series of tests you took required you to use every region of your brain. And when this region of interest was used, artificial neurons would clone off of the energetic stimulation of your original neurons. The Hub basically created a second artificial brain in your head for the Psychozone so that a physical layout of the Psychozone’s physical dimension could be formed.”
“That’s enough lecture on neuroscience,” Robert said. “The Psychozone would allow me to psychologically tinker anyone’s mind. I’ve already completed physical and neurochemical domination. This is the last on my list. I’m deciding on—”
“DAAAAADDDD!” Max screamed from a distance.
Andrew’s mind awakened. He woke up. He jolted his body up. A bridge of sutured dead animate plant bodies wrapped over the electric fence of the metal fence. A man had Max tied up on his back. A woman had Lisa tied up on her back. Another man had Harriet tied up on his back. They slowly climbed up the electricity-trapping-animate-plant-bodied bridge.
Andrew screamed, “MAAAAAXXXXX!” He sprinted for the metal fence, completely disregarding Robert and Alonzo sitting on the manure. “I’M COMING!” Blood poured out of his missing and dangling-fleshed arms.
“Go! Go! Go!” the man who carried Max yelled.
Andrew screamed, “STOP!” He ran quicker. He forgot about the bleeding. He forgot who he was. All three of the carriers were three-fourths up the 10-foot fence. Andrew was 20 feet away. His eyebrows bent. His jaw began to jitter. He ran his fastest he had ever ran. He felt manic. He felt like a superhero. He hopped for the fence. No arms or hands, he bit down on the Max carrier’s pants. He bit down the other two carrier’s pants. All three of the carriers, in addition to his loved ones, fell on the floor. His vision went blurry. He headbutted the Max carrier’s face. He kicked the Lisa carrier’s face. He rammed his body into the Harriet carrier’s body. He repeatedly kicked at the three of them. “I’LL KILL YOU ALL!”
He felt a ginormous brain zap. His muscles fasciculated. He fell to the floor. His mouth went numb. His tongue tingled. He got back up. He screamed maniacally. He looked at his son. He charged, ready to strike his son with a kick.
He stopped moving his body. He winced his face. “I’LL KILL MY CHILDREN! I HATE THEM!” He flexed all his muscles and dropped to the floor. He smiled and cried in screams. “BUT I LOVE THEM!” His legs became paralyzed. His whole body shivered and discombobulated. “BUT I HATE THEM!” He tried leaning his upper body up.
He saw his daughter’s face. She was frightened. He saw his son’s face. He had tears down his cheeks. He saw Harriet's face. Her eyes were closed with tears down to her jaw.
“Dad?!” Lisa cried.
The three carriers struggled to get back up.
Harriet said, “Fight that neurotransmitter monster!”
Andrew shivered more. He wailed. He was angry. “I CAN’T!” He struggled to breathe. “FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK!”
The three carriers got up. The Max carrier yelled, “Should we fight him?!”
“He’s too unpredictable!” the Harriet carrier yelled.
The three carriers picked up his loved ones on their backs. Andrew wailed ferociously. His face grimaced.
“DAAAADDDDD!” Max screamed as his carrier carried him up the metal fence. Harriet and Lisa were broken.
The three carriers lifted them up the fence and threw them over. They hopped over it. They picked up his loved ones again and ran away.
Andrew’s face hit the manure floor. His muscles stopped aching. His body stopped discombobulating. His vision became clear. He cried.
“Not bad,” Robert said. “I sneaked in a neurotransmitter converter inside your Hub before you took off and changed your levels extremely in volatility. Welcome that feeling of defeat until you become numb to apathy.”
Andrew looked to the metal fence. The dancing light-green bioluminescent flowers died. So did everyone else neurochemically.