"Look, it doesn't matter which position you're in, Leon, our goal, ultimately, is to find a cure! Surely you're not losing sight of this?" Rafa Park shouts.
Leon Fauslin, the entitled son of the late pioneer, and genius Jack Fauslin sat in his chair. His legs up on his desk with his entwined fingers veiling his mouth. Rafa Park, the lead engineer, stood at the desk with no regret in his tone; this project he worked on with Jack, his project, was underfunded.
"Mr. Park. That was my father’s goal. I know about you, and my father's project. The cure is used for us, here, today. This is the present. Our people can survive from this, Rafa. If you are as brilliant as my father expressed, you will leave the past behind, and look towards a future rebuilt by us. Don't you think, if this is truly a cure, they would build memorials in our names, you and I. Imagine: your face carved perfectly into an onyx statue; with an engraved title that reads, something like - 'Rafa Park, inventor, and savior of the known world.' - and, of course, all the credentials in your, surely impressive resume."
Leon flashed a smirk; similar to Jack's smiles, but he was only a shell of Jack’s gentle soul. Rafa received this expression with indifference. Leon had flashed that same smile during previous meetings; with a similar language. "Money, nor fame have been on my mind, Mr. Fauslin. I made, what I believe to be the cure for Pithovirus Necrosi. If I had the chance to go back and correct a mistake and get my daughter back, I would give up my own life. Wouldn't you feel some sense of pride knowing that you could prevent the apocalypse? You have personally seen what one Blight can do. Admit it, Leon. We made this mess, we have a responsibility to our people! I loved your father like a brother, but he was arrogant about the flaws in his powerplant. I forgave the arrogance when it first started, but It has been six years since the leak, Leon. Look at the world. Trees are dying at accelerated rates. There are no more birds, and our people are living in fucking holes in the ground!"
Leon sprung up from his desk, "We can still fix it, now! We will plant new trees. The birds will return, eventually. Once we plug the leak, things will get better. We can still atone for this!"
"You're suffocating in your hubris. The storm is rising, and there is no guarantee that, even if we stop the leak, we can stop what has already spread." There was a silence between them after that. Leon knew Rafa was right. He took a breath and walked to the exterior window, overlooking the valley with a clear view of their former power plant, still continuously sending plumes of toxic fog into the sky. Rafa stood silent. The tension had been broken by the air purifiers that had turned their cycle.
Leon turned to Rafa.
"Show me my father's time machine."
Part 2. The Daughter
Cindee Park sat at her computer, at the same desk she sat at for four and a half years. A timer on the wall reminded her how much precious time she had left. 262800.288 minutes, and counting down. She watched a recording of the meeting between her father and Leon. "I'll show you Jack's time machine. I can also prove my cure works, but I need a specimen." Cindee paused the video, stood up, grabbed her clipboard and walked to a glass enclosure. "Hello, Bedlam. Time for breakfast." The cylindrical key hung around her neck as if it weighed a thousand pounds. She maneuvered it around her jet-black hair and inserted it into the keyhole, and pressed the large center button in the center. Thick purple plumes of smoke released into the enclosure, completely surrounding the Blight specimen with the antitoxin her father created. Cindee spoke into a camera attached to the enclosure.
"Trial number One hundred and eighty-two. Zombie specimen, common Blight, codenamed 'Bedlam' has shown no response to stimuli after exposure to antitoxin; nor any change in expression towards me, except for his eyes; those eyes follow me everywhere."
[There has been no significant decrease in Bedlam’s fangs] - Buddy the robot appeared like a ghost, startling Cindee.
"Buddy! please..please let me know when you're behind me."
[My apologies, Ms. Park. Aside from my voice, I have no other way of announcing my presence. As I was saying, I have been monitoring Bedlam's fangs; they have not decreased, in addition, they seem to be emitting trace amounts of the toxin; presumably the way they transmit the virus. It has been four and a half years since my installation, Ms. Park. Your father promised the company that they would see results.]
"My father was promised more funding for this project. The cure is expensive to make, and 'the company' has only given me enough for one trial a day. I simply need more, Buddy. This antitoxin must be administered frequently."
[The company and Mr. Fauslin have been more than generous with their funding and time. They gave you a timeline of five years, Ms. Park. Your time is almost up.]
"Thanks, Buddy."
[You're welcome, Ms. Park!] - Buddy glided silently out of the room, along the track that was installed on the ceiling of the underground bunker that the company built, where Cindee was stationed. His functions were limited to creating honey-do lists for Cindee to do, and telling her how much time she had left. Leon Fauslin had indeed allowed her father to gather a specimen. An appropriately named Blight was captured and brought to Cindee for administering the cure. She named him Bedlam, even after being forbidden from forming any sort of attachment and a firm reminder that her assignment was to prove that her father's cure works.
Trial one hundred and eighty-two was underway. The smoke had cleared and Bedlam stood motionless. his eyes were fixed on Cindee.
Her hand hovered over the button. The temptation to release more antitoxin was strong. She kept her eyes on Bedlam. She thought of who he was before the void washed him over. His blackened irises were accompanied by red veins stretching over the sclera like arms of death. His face was sunken in like sickly, translucent gray skin pulled over the skull. All of his teeth had fallen out or had been forced out by two razor-sharp lead fangs that hung down in the front of his mouth like pure silver stalactites. This was the most common form of Blights that roamed the known world. She was grateful they didn't bring her a Bane Blight. The Bane’s don’t bother to spread the Pithovirus, they bite, tear, rip apart. They’re the killers; common blight are the spreaders. Nobody could explain why two variants of the same disease acted so opposite to one another.
Cindee waited for nearly an hour before crossing out the paper on her clipboard. "Trial one hundred and eighty-two is unsuccessful..as usual. Dad, what am I missing?" She thought to herself. She tossed the clipboard on the nearby desk with frustration and walked to the fridge to get a pre-made meal and yet another coffee that she thought was bland. Perhaps her taste was tampered with by the atmosphere
Buddy the robot had returned to his charging station at the end of the bunker. His digital eyes were 'closed' which meant he was sleeping.
"Finally!" She said quietly to herself. The bunker was made without doors except for the bathroom. Buddy wasn't allowed in that corner, and there were no tracks on the ceiling. This became her sanctuary. She held no animosity towards Buddy, he was built for the bunker, and this assignment alone; Cindee craved the freedom to use her father's antitoxin as she saw fit.
She was tired.
Buzz Buzz Buzz! Her alarm blared throughout the bunker. Buddy rushed over to see. Cindee raised her head. A piece of paper was stuck to the side of her face. She peeled it off and crumpled it before Buddy saw her. She quickly ran to the bathroom and doused her face with water, while Buddy turned off the alarm.
[Good morning, Cindee! Time for breakfast, and then trial one hundred and eighty-three. Are you excited?]
"Good morning, Buddy. I think I fell asleep without eating, so I'll just reheat my food from last night."
[Very well, ma'am. I shall put on a fresh pot of coffee.] That meant he would send a signal to the coffee maker.
"Thank you. I was just thinking, I have earned enough points to purchase an upgrade for you. What would you like as the first one?"
[As I am incapable of displaying emotion, perhaps a more expressive interface. Coffee is hot and ready, Ms. Park.]
"I think that's a good idea. And, Buddy, you can just call me Cindee."
[Yes, Ms..Cindee.]
Jack Fauslin created an incentive program for Cindee to have a sense of accomplishment. Every trial run she would earn a random amount of points. Cindee turned on the personal computer and purchased the level one face for Buddy the robot.
A blinking light on Buddy's 'body' led him to his charging station. He quickly, and silently glided to his corner and shut down to receive his upgrade. Cindee had never heard excitement in Buddy's voice before this.
She takes a sip of her coffee - "Oh damn, that's hot." - She grabbed her lip whilst nearly dropping the mug. Buddy the robot cheerfully came back into the main living area, this time with a physical smile. [Hello again, Ms. Park!] The face was less than impressive. A pale gray circle with small black slits for eyes, and an uneasy smile, devoid of teeth. Cindee returned a smirk.
"What do you think?" [My programming only allows the emotions you purchase. I can only imagine how much of a change this is for you. What do you think?] "It is a nice change. I can talk to a face now, instead of a metal box. Maybe Bedlam will notice it too."
[Ah, yes, speaking of which, how go the trials?]
"I hate to sound like a broken record, Buddy, but there is no change in that arena. And I know that you're going to remind me, so I started checking the timer."
That was a lie. She couldn't have cared less about her timeline. She started drowning out the timer, sometimes using it as background noise, similar to a metronome. She put a hand under her desk and crossed her fingers so that Buddy couldn't see through the lie.
[Okay, Ms. Park, I appreciate your honesty. Have you administered the daily dosage to Bedlam yet?]
"I haven't yet. Maybe after another upgrade for arms, you could do the honors of pushing the button. Shall we?" Buddy's face lit up. [Yes, Ms. Park. I'm sorry, I mean, Cindee.]
She smiled back at Buddy and walked over to Bedlam. She greeted him with no reaction, as usual, and pressed the button. Bedlam was drowned in the sea of violet. Cindee stood there, in a sort of trance when Buddy inched closer to her - [Does it usually take this long?] He whispered to her which caused her heart to skip a beat.
"Yeah. It depends on how long it takes for the antitoxin to sink into the skin and orifices. It dissipates quicker If Bedlam complies and breathes it in."
[Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I haven't witnessed his chest expand at all.] "Yeah, you're right, Buddy." Buddy the robot could hear the defeat in her tone. Soon after, the violet cloud dissipated, leaving Bedlam standing alone once again; except now his eyes were focused on Buddy.
"Now I need your code, Leon, on that pad." Rafa typed in his four-digit code in one of the pin pads on either side of a cold metal door in the basement of the building. Leon reluctantly put in his numbers and hit enter. The heavy metal door swung open, revealing a large machine with a large tarp covering. When they entered the room, the door swung back closed and the lights flickered on. "What the hell is this, Rafa? My father must've spent a small fortune on the room alone."
"Closer to two small fortunes. The walls are two feet thick, and the door we came through is Damascus steel. I admit the door is excessive, but it looked cool."
Leon looked back at the door, the Damascus design reflected the dim lights in the room perfectly. "That is really cool." He said in a low tone. He turned back as Rafa was removing the tarp. On the side of the machine, there was a small electrical box, and he threw the switch, which lit up the circular floor. A light started swirling and then slowly stopped at the machine's door.
"You're telling me this machine can send us back in time?"
"Ah, so you've thought about us going already? Good."
"What? No, I just meant, whoever it would be, it would send them back."
"Well, yes. Presumably with my Antitoxin in hand."
"If your Antitoxin works, why would we go back in time? We could start from scratch, the world could start over. There is no more war, the economy is better now than it has been in a hundred years, Rafa!"
"That's because there isn't anything left to buy, Leon. Except for time. Here, now. You saw the clouds above the powerplant. Soon those clouds will blot out the sun, and the Blight are more active in the dark. You have witnessed that. The contaminant storm will take over our skies, and the Blight will follow it. They respond to it now. We can argue about this until we are old men, Leon, but we must go back and stop the spread." Leon dropped his head. He had lost his father, Jack, to a Bane Blight. The hulking creature, deformed by the virus and the contaminant, grabbed his father and sunk his lead fangs into his body. Leon hid under a desk and covered his mouth, so he wouldn't scream. He could only watch as the lead coursed through his father's blood veins, turning them dark gray until he was, himself a Blight. The Bane Blight dropped Jack’s lifeless body, jumped through the window to the ground far below, and disappeared.
"We are old men now, Rafa."
"I know, Leon. Help me with this and you can grow old with your father, and I can grow old with my daughter at my side."
“The Blight responds to stimuli. In this case, humans. Our blood is a source of energy for them, we have found, but it goes even deeper than that. The subject is not able to smell our blood in the enclosure, so it has become docile. My robot companion has received the upgrade of a basic face. After my daily trial, the subject ‘Bedlam’ was transfixed on Buddy’s face. I’ll need to run more trials with Buddy present to be able to confirm, so it is only a theory at the moment.”
Cindee put down her pen and rubbed her eyes. She had been awake almost the entire night. She glanced over at her clock; it read 2:30. She sighed and went to bed.
“Hello, my name is Rafa Park, and I am conducting an experiment with the Pithovirus in my lab. I know that after this recording, I could be imprisoned, exiled to the Blight, or killed here, but this test must be done to show that my antitoxin is the cure.”
The camera switched to his telescope and a slide with a dormant Pithovirus on it.
“The goal is to not be too aggressive with the needle. We have to work with what the virus gives us. If I can find a soft spot on its side, then I shall transmit the antitoxin into it directly; now of course, for Cindee, I will be creating a version that can be administered through the lungs of an infected person, but this is a preliminary test.”
After a restless night, Cindee sprung up in her bed, and threw her blanket off, which was soaked in sweat. She ran to her computer and hit play on the recorded footage. Bedlam’s eyes, though hard to read, switched from Cindee’s to Buddy’s, she was sure of it! They spent four years together Cindee learned how to read Bedlam’s eyes.
She wanted to bring Buddy on more tests to prove this. Bedlam wasn’t stupid, just dead. He was acting on instinct now. His primal sense as a predator was kicking in. He could still recognize his prey.
“Good morning, Buddy!” Buddy’s silicone eyes shot open. Cindee wondered if another upgrade would give him eyeballs instead of empty sockets with a black background. It made her feel uneasy. Good morning, Ms. Park. I have to say, this is a first; you haven’t previously woken me up. “I wanted to start our trial early today. Would you like to come with me?” Yes! There was emotion in his voice.. Thank you for considering me, as you put it, “Let’s go give Bedlam his breakfast.” Cindee smirked and snorted, “Yes. lets.”
Your guest seems to not be responding to the tests
The hair on Cindee’s neck stood "I would like it if you announced your presence, Buddy."
[Yes, ma'am, what would you like me to say when I enter?]
"How about 'Hello, Cindee or 'Good morning, Ms. Park', or maybe even 'What's up playa?'” Her fatigue had set in after sleepless nights that ‘what’s up playa’ seemed like normal dialogue.
[My apologies, Ms. Park. What is a "playa?"]
"I was sort of kidding about that one. I think it’s funny that your programming allowed you to say that.” [Very well. How did your session go last night] "About the same as the others, Buddy. These sessions have a chance to be successful if I was afforded more Antitoxin.”
[You have been requesting more of Rafa’s Antitoxin for three months now.]
"And I am again, now. As the sole heir of my father’s belongings, I should have full authority over the Antitoxin. I think that during these tests, if I had more to use, the effects, if any, would take hold sooner."
[I shall take your request to my supervisors.]
"That usually means, screw you."
[I don't fully understand human linguistics, but from my current programming, that is something of a curse word.]
"Something like that. It’s a pretty versatile one too. It’s another thing I would love to hear you say someday." Cindee was watching footage from previous sessions, whilst Buddy slipped away. She had an intrusive thought of “accidently” deleting a session, so she could try and convince Buddy they had to work on a second one on that same day. She wanted to test her theory. There was no telling what it would prove exactly, but she was exhausted from writing the same damn thing on paper every day. “No change” was accurate, but it became muscle memory by then. This clause of having no attachment to the subject was getting in the way. She was annoyed at her father for agreeing to it, but she understood it was one of the only ways to get where she was; unfortunately, there was a slim hope that she would write anything different. It was such a slight on her father as well. His “cure” didn’t seem to be working, and that bothered her.
She wrote it on the line and dropped her pen in defeat. Her head dropped into her arms.
[I’m sorry, Cindee.]
“What, Buddy?” She turned her head to see Buddy had reentered the room, right above her. To attempt to comfort her in the only way he knew.
[My programming doesn't allow me to improvise much, Ms. Park. Perhaps a less restrictive language barrier for my next upgrade.]
"Yeah, perhaps. It would be nice to have some in-depth conversations for a change. I know, Buddy; for now, I'll do that part for you." She did appreciate the gesture.
[Are there any events worth noting, Ms. Park?]
"Not yet. I let it record longer than usual last night. I'll have to go through it all before I complete my notes.”
[I admire your willingness to work harder, Cindee.]
"Thanks, Buddy." She said with her head resting on her hands. "How was your first day with a face"
[It went rather well, considering I have nothing to compare it to. I spent a small amount of time looking. Do humans usually cycle through the different shapes their faces can take?]
Again she smirked. “Oh yes. More than we should; we used to do it in front of phones for fun. Just don’t be vain on me, Buddy.”
[I’m sorry, Ms. Park. I’ll stop spending so much time looking in the mirror.]
“No, Buddy, I think you should.” She wasn’t trying to get rid of Buddy. At least, that wasn’t why she said this. “It’s a big adjustment, and we need to be cognizant of your functions as much as possible. Bedlam and I aren’t going anywhere. And it helps, in the long run, if you’re used to change, for when you get more upgrades.
[I would like that very much, Ms. Park. And thank you for allowing me time to adjust.]
“You’re welcome, Buddy.”
Session one hundred and eighty-four came and went, with the same outcome.
“Buddy, would you like to be a part of session one eighty-five? I need your assistance.” [Yes, ma’am! But how can I assist you?] “I need you to monitor Bedlam during the initial exposure. I don’t suppose you came with thermal vision?” [I don’t believe so, Ms. Park.]
“That’s ok. Shall we begin?” [Yes, ma’am.]
Cindee walked over to Bedlam, who, as always, stood in the center of the floor. As soon as Buddy entered into view, Bedlam’s empty eyes shifted and never left Buddy’s malleable but likewise empty eyes. May I express myself freely, Ms. Park? Cindee’s brow was scrunched up by her nose. Buddy had an original thought? She made a mental note. “Yes, Buddy, go ahead.” [I noticed that Bedlam was looking at me again. Does he not need to blink?]
“Probably not, Buddy. We may never know how the Pithovirus works, but the excess amounts of lead poisoning in his system are controlling him. What we do know is that the virus causes, or in some way, assists the Blight with identifying their food source; which in my case is me. I do not know why he would be staring at you, Buddy. My father believed the Blight could see our blood through our eyes, almost like a glow. That’s how they tracked us down to near extinction. The other features of the Blight are indistinguishable to their own kind, it’s in the eyes.”
[But I do not have typical eyes.]
“No, Buddy, you do not. I admit that this was a small reason why I wanted you to join me in these sessions.” She couldn’t believe she said it out loud! Oh shit, she muttered. “I’m sorry, Buddy. I wasn’t trying to be dishonest with you, I wanted to be sure that Bedlam was showing signs of..well, anything. I was desperate for him to show any response to the antitoxin; I still don’t know if this is a result of that, or if he’s reverting to his primal self as a Blight.” She looked up at Buddy, whose face hadn’t turned away from Bedlam’s. This is acceptable, Ms. Park. If it is a noteworthy attribute, then we both shall keep it, as humans say, ‘under wraps’. for now. This was unexpected behavior from Buddy.
Cindee turned back to Bedlam, she could’ve sworn he was moving ever so slightly.
She pushed the button. The violet plume surrounded Bedlam and lingered in the air. Cindee looked back at Buddy, who now was staring straight back at her. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes grew in fear.
Thank you for being honest with me now, Ms. Park. I have decided to award you bonus points in your account. Your work ethic is admirable. I admit that I am also excited, or as close as I could be to that emotion, to seeing Bedlam’s advancement.
Buddy turned his face back to Bedlam, who now had become visible again. “Thank you, Buddy,” Cindee said as she also looked back at Bedlam. “I think I’ve decided what your next upgrade will be.” She decided against a brain chip that would allow Buddy more complex thoughts. Who in their right mind would choose that option? But somehow Buddy had been using language she hadn’t heard before. Perhaps he was learning from her, that was an uncomfortable proposition in itself. In this instance, she debated internally that functional arms would be the best choice for him. Her debate was on whether it was a good idea to give him the ability to physically interfere with any part of her sessions, but she looked around the bunker and she was having a hard time keeping up with cleaning. Without these sessions, without Bedlam, Cindee would have a breakdown. Every time she woke up in this place, she wanted to lie down in the shower and cry. She knew the pain of loss as well as anyone. Her father, Rafa, had been falsely imprisoned by Leon over his cure. Rafa refused to give the formula to anyone, including Leon. Several of the meetings Cindee had watched were with Rafa behind bars.
Cindee had met Jack, when Rafa was his advisor, along with being his Chief Engineer. Rafa regarded Jack as a friend. He was a good man who made a poor choice, but she held no posthumous grudge against him.
The memory of her father caused a moment of dissociation. Her mother had been dead for many years prior, due to a vehicle accident. Rafa was a good father to her, he treated her like a daughter should be treated. When Leon threatened her father with prison time, he made a deal with Rafa to keep working on the cure as long as he was still alive or send his daughter underground once again to develop and perfect his formula. Rafa chose to send Cindee because “She has her mother’s intelligence, along with my persistence. I don’t have much longer to live. Cindee will prove my cure works, Leon.”
“Very well, Rafa. She will be sent to my bunker. Out of respect for my father, and the relationship you two shared. She will be accompanied by a robot that will report back to me about her progress.”
the Time Machine
“The machine has a miniature wormhole that can send us back in time.”
“A wormhole? How did you manage to create it?”
“Ah, well that’s simple.” Leon held up his hand to cut Rafa off from the explanation. “I’m sure you’re about to explain it in explicit detail, and I have no doubt that you know what you’re talking about. No offense, but clearly I’m not the man you are, Rafa.” Leon looked at Rafa with a different level of respect. “On the other side of time, there is another machine similar in design to this one outside of the factory. Not even Jack knew of its location, I had to set it up in secret.”
“Knowing now that my father helped you up to this point, I’m surprised he didn’t let you set this up in his office.”
“I asked him to,” Rafa said.
“Of course you did.”
Cindee was in her happy place; a hot shower. Her own glass enclosure had steamed up. This was one of a few perks that influenced her decision to live underground. She hadn’t had a hot shower since her late teen years before her life was on the run. She had constant doubts about her success, and thought about giving up, even though she felt like she was on the brink of proving the cure worked. She believed her father wholeheartedly. He was a brilliant man, but this, even for him, was a new endeavor. A cure to make the dead alive again was impossible, wasn’t it?
Ordinarily, Ms. Park. Once cells have seized, then it is unlikely that they will ever gain that function again; which is one of the reasons for any doubt in my tone, as of late. It’s common knowledge that your father was an outstanding man; a genius by all accounts, in fact, but this task seems impossible.
“Have you ever heard the story of Lazarus?”
Your father is not God, Ms. Park. Despite your admirable adoration. You are simply an Acolyte blindly following His footsteps, whilst not adding additional hypotheses, or indelible changes to the serum you’re giving to Bedlam, hoping to see a different result. You have the tools, Ms. Park, but in its current form, the cure is useless, and you will run out of time without making any significant impact on your father’s work.
Cindee became angry with Buddy. He was right, but she hated that. What was she contributing to her father’s work, other than simply administering it to Bedlam? There had always been a looming sense of something missing. She had to go back to square one. She took time away from Buddy to curse herself in privacy. There was no need to “teach” buddy any more new words. She walked back to the main area moments later, and Buddy greeted her again.
“You’re right, Buddy. I’ve been viewing this the wrong way. Ultimately, this isn’t about me. When I…If we succeed, all of mankind benefits. Do you really think they can go back in time to prevent any of this from happening?”
Theoretically, time travel is possible. All you would need to do is harness a small blackhole; and manipulate it into folding in on itself, without collapsing. The process is much easier explained than done. I should also add that the creation of a black hole is beyond my programming.
Cindee pretended not to know. The concept fascinated her. She spent many late nights listening to her father talk about making a black hole when he wasn’t aware. He often found her asleep just outside his office and would cover her with a blanket.
Not impossible, but nonetheless insane. In theory, she knew how to pull it off, but attaining the equipment to create one was out of the question. That wasn't her job. Her job was the here and now, and Buddy was right, she had to concede that she wasn't doing enough. Perhaps scrapping the formula down to its bones would give her a chance to see what she could add or subtract if anything. She also had to concede that it wasn’t a one-person job..
“Hey Buddy, I’m buying you another upgrade.” She purchased Buddy’s new arms.
A Fresh Start
Buddy, in as excited of a manner as his programming would allow, hurried to his charging station to receive the upgrade. When he returned they dragged behind him in the air.
It’s going to take a moment to learn how to utilize them, but I’ve observed you enough to know a small amount. I apologize if I’m not an immediate help to you.
"That's okay, Buddy. We can start once you get more practice with them. How do they look?"
Buddy raised his newly acquired translucent gray arms and wriggled his fingers. Cindee let out a short burst of air from her nose. I think they look perfect. “I do too.”
Buddy’s smile was still as empty as before, although now she felt like they were finding common ground; if common ground meant that she would use all of her resources to get what she wanted. Cindee knew she was attractive enough for a real man. In a past life, it had proven useful to procure items she needed in her numerous theses, in her younger years. It was a dangerous game. And sexuality wouldn’t work on a robot. She had an idea.
“I need help.” [How can I be of assistance?] “I have been looking at this process all wrong. I’ve been trying to prevent death, rather than looking to recreate. I need to request something, Buddy.” [If it is possible to acquire for you ma’am, then I shall.]
“Thank you. I need Tenecteplase. Large doses.” There was a long quiet pause. Buddy didn’t move or say anything. “Do you know what Tenecteplase is?” [Yes, ma’am. I’m searching the database. It might take a moment.]
“Oh, right. Take your time.” [searching…searching]
[Thank you for your patience, Ms. Park. I have found one warehouse database that still appears to have Tenecteplase in stock. With routine inventories being obsolete, it is impossible to know exactly how much they carry. “I’ll take all of it.” Of course. I’ll send word to the recovery team beta, they are just outside of zone J.] “What’s there?”
“Captain, you have a call on line two.
“This is Capt. Mason. Yes sir, my team and I can retrieve whatever it is you need. How many Blights have I killed? I never keep track, sir. With all due respect, sir, would this be in regards to Ms. Park in bunker eighteen? Tenecteplase. No, sir, I haven’t heard of it. Where is it located?
You want us to go where? Sir, zone J is gone. No, I mean it’s overrun by Blight. The big bastards too. Well, I don’t know exactly how to describe them, sir. Tall. No, I mean taller than the Bane blights. I’d say about eight to ten feet. The one we took down walked on all fours and resembled a giraffe. My scientist believes it is a mutated form of bone cancer. There are sprouts sticking out of certain areas of their flesh. The sprouts also emit what could be spores. The lesser Blight seem to be highly attracted to being around them. No, sir, these ones are on all fours. Fuckin’ hard to bring down though. My team poured two entire clips into one just to bring it down. Yes, sir, we have one here. We don’t know if the spores continue to give off any of the toxins, but our containment team is working hard to give us a solid answer. Yes, sir. Yes, sir, we’ll do our best. Of course, sir. We’ll bring it to you.``
[According to a call I’ve intercepted, zone J is completely overrun with “Blight.” Capt. Youngblood seemed less than happy to be making the trek, even with a fully armed team. After he hung up, I stayed connected to his intercom. His usage of expletives rivals your own, Ms. Park.]
“Thank you for sending the team, Buddy.” [You don’t seem concerned for their safety.]
“Of course I am. Safety is a privilege that you and I have here. And no doubt, some of the rich bastards paid to have their penthouses suspended from the high towers. I can’t imagine the view is very nice though. I just have to pray and hope they can get there and back without any casualties, Buddy. That’s all I have left.”
[I believe your intended use of Tenecteplase is quite wise, but I must ask, do you really think this will work?]
“It has to, Buddy. The current serum we’re using is ineffective without additional resources. But if we could overload Bedlam with..”
[That will still be expensive Ma’am. You’re continuing to push the financial limits or your st..]
“I don’t give a shit Buddy. You can report me if that would satisfy your programming, but you have two choices. You can let me try to save the world, or you can worry about finances and your boss. If you could picture what zone J looks like now, do your best to keep in mind that those used to be human beings. We, you and I, have a chance to save the ones that are left. The hundreds are kept underground because of places similar to zone J. You cannot tell me the odds of Leon’s money evaporating outweigh the potential of creating a cure that could cure mankind of this plague. Now tell me the odds of Tenecteplase working on Bedlam.”
[First I would tell you the likelihood of that team making it here to us is currently at 21%. Even with the most advanced weapons in the world at their disposal, their odds only improve slightly.]
“Leon won’t let his one opportunity to save the world slip through his grimy fingers. The money he would ‘lose’ from attempting this is hardly worth noting. Jack made more money than 99% of the world has ever seen. If Leon makes it out of this alive his wealth would still be like a net filled with fish.”
[You’re suggesting that even if this team doesn’t make it back from Zone J, Mr. Fauslin would continue to send teams. Whilst I cannot disagree, I don’t believe that is the most effective mode of acquiring TNK, ma’am.]
“The Blight they kill off in ‘J’ will only help us in the long term, Buddy.”
The cold nature of Cindee’s remarks wasn’t an accident. She knew her time was short. The cure was so close. In the back of her mind, she wonders how Zone J could’ve been infected so intensely. The descriptions of the zombies there seem too fantastical to be real. If she makes it to J she’ll have to see this ‘giraffe’ herself.
[If I may, I assume that TNK is transmittable to Bedlam.]
“Yes, if we evaporate it, we can use the same method.”
[Yes, ma’am, that should work. This may not mean much coming from a machine, and excuse my previous lack of faith in your plan, but I now believe you’re on the right track. It also would increase your odds to 43%.]
“That means the world to me, Buddy. Thank you”
Buddy’s demeanor changed in an instant. His “smile” returned. Cindee made another mental note that she might need to purchase an upgrade to “humanize” his face. She smirked back; she tried to hide her discomfort. She missed human interaction. Even seeing Leon would be nice, though she knows it would end up with her fist breaking his well-groomed jaw. That fantasy quickly shuts down when, in her daydream, she’s presented with paperwork and a line to sign her name. It perks back up when she signs her name as ‘Fuck you’. She opens her eyes and is greeted with the same bland gray walls, and way-to-bright lights embedded in the top corners where the wall meets the ceiling.
[Well, I’ve devised a plan to make this place as clean as I can while we wait.]
“I’ve been thinking about that too! I’m ashamed that I’ve let it get like this.”
[Don’t be, ma’am. You’ve been under immense stress. We’ll get it back to its original condition in no time at all.] Buddy was useful for getting the cobwebs and stalactites of dust that had started their descent into the boring earth landscape. Buddy’s arms were a smart investment, even if they only played a part in the long game of maintenance. Cindee couldn't hide her amazement at how dust accumulates, as if it took it upon itself to repopulate the earth.
She hoped that Buddy had a plan for the dust once he was done cleaning. He had it piled up in a corner, she hoped, with the intent of getting rid of it completely. There was never any way to know for sure if he had another plan for it. Was that part of his programming? Just then the alarm sounded! Cindee’s heart jumped out of her chest and she covered her ears as, and she cursed aloud. Buddy immediately stopped dusting, leaving a clean divide on a shelf. He placed the duster down and checked on the alarm. Cindee remembered hearing the first alarms when the power plant announced their leak. She had never heard anything that loud before, except the explosion itself seemed to overpower it at its zenith. As a kid, she couldn’t help but look out the window right when the cloud overtook the workers that had no other option but to accept their fate. The toxin took effect instantaneously. You will never forget how quickly the expressions of the workers changed from fear to murderous thirst. Mutations soon followed. The fangs of silver were the most jarring. They rooted out the other teeth until the sharps were all that remained. She saw the first of the infected turn to those around them and start infecting others. The women..the children couldn’t fight back. The babies cried until the infection turned them, or killed them. The latter occurred more often. Rafa pulled her into a safe room just before the cloud came their way. He built the room, so she did not doubt that they all would be safe. He held her close and whispered “It will be okay. Everything will be okay.” Cindee would give anything for the world to get back to just okay. The bones of the earth are rusted, and there is no vinegar within reach. In reality, she didn’t know any more about the world’s bones. There were scattered rumblings about the city named Atlas. The flora had overtaken civilization after the Scar. Weird name for the area where an even weirder bomb went off. The “fauna” had become things of mythology. Or was that a dream she had? Maybe a movie from when those were still around; or a hallucination. What she did know was that this wasn’t “Atlas”. This place, her place, was called “gray shit-hole”, and she hated its dull gray bones. Cindee's ears were ringing with familiarity, even when the alarm stopped. Buddy strolled in with a partially clear vial with a bloody note in his other hand. [Your Tenecteplase has arrived Ms. Park.] His voice was muffled. He held out the note for her. She took the note. It read “This better work.” The note dropped to her feet. Blood was now on her hands. The words took a moment to set in.
It was time to put TNK to the test. She gave the okay for Buddy to insert the vial into the evaporator. His attention to detail was why she wanted him to do it. He could see the smallest speck of dust, and she wore glasses. And her hands were shaking. And bloody. This isn’t something she could afford to screw up.
It was surreal seeing the liquid drain from the vial. Their final chance just became a reality. Another insurance mechanic of the machine, built by Cindee, was that any liquid they poured into it would use only a fraction of what they needed. In this case, the tenecteplase usage would be one drop per test, to get the most out of it. Cindee closed her eyes. She tried opening them again, but her eyelids slipped darkness over her, and sleep was like a lover she hadn’t held in months.
[Ma’am, the TNK has evaporated.] Buddy went to inform Cindee but she was asleep with her head in her arms. He just stared at her for a moment, then he glanced back at the TNK, in the new vials.
Cindee woke up in her bed. “I don’t remember laying down. What the hell.” She confronted Buddy when she walked out, not realizing that she was also naked. “Buddy, how did I get into my bed?” [Ma’am, you simply walked into your room. The stress from this week must have been overwhelming. If you could please put on some clothes, we could get started on the next trials.]
She quickly ran to her room and dressed. Which was a little hasty. Buddy was a robot, and likely couldn’t care less that Cindee was naked. Ever since she was a young girl she didn’t like being seen like that. She grabbed her robe and pulled it close up to her neckline. The collar was wet from her wet hair. Did Buddy drag her to the shower? There was an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. She regretted buying him any upgrades.
Cindee and Buddy were on to session one ninety-one. With the TNK it was like starting over. The more sessions she's a part of, the less faith she has in the project. "Maybe it is hopeless." [Don't give up, ma'am] Buddy told her, and she was quickly reminded that Buddy could hear a lot more than she should be saying; his programming and all that.
This session started well, she thought. bedlam started moving. Rather he was swaying, back and forth. She took it as a good sign and wrote it down with excitement. It was initially thought that the Blight would gather in groups or hordes, they would sway in unison for no known reason, but up until this session, Cindee hadn't heard of a situation where a Zombie in isolation would practice the same ritual.
"Finally!" She exclaimed. Buddy turned the corner. [Some good news, ma'am?]
She had to compose herself. She knew that if she gave Buddy too much information, he would present it to her supervisors, giving them more reason to shut her down.
"I.uh..I got my DVD player to work, sorry for the overblown reaction, Buddy."
[Another human experience I can never understand. I can only equate it to, the closest thing I have had to a genuine human emotion when I received my appendages. I felt grateful.]
Gratefulness was desperately lacking in the world.
Of course, there was no attraction other than platonic, and it was validating to be allowed to speak freely, or as freely as she chose to be, and not be interrupted.
It didn't matter how long they would be sharing the space, she would always keep her cards close to her chest.
Cindee lay awake in bed. Thinking about session 70. Bedlam didn't react to the Anti-toxin in his usual way. The swaying stopped as soon as the plume hit him. She stood in front of his containment pod and after it cleared enough for them to see each other, he just stared at her. There was nothing behind those dark eyes but she could see that he was looking only at her.
[Interesting]
"What's interesting, Buddy?"
[He appears to be fixating on me, ma'am]
"He doesn't know how to do that. He's brain dead,"
[And yet, he stares at you like he knows you]
"It's unsettling, isn't it?"
[I'm not sure]
"Right."
Buddy was right. There was some glint of recognition in his eyes. Was the Anti-toxin working? Buddy hadn't said anything else about the topic, so she thought maybe she could write down some notes about this anomaly without his prying eyes. She was unsure of her next move but she knew she would have to pretend nothing happened until Buddy said something that is; which she figured wouldn't take long. She woke up the next day and went straight into session one ninety-two. She skipped breakfast even, her nerves had begun to cloud her ambition. Cindee knew as well as Buddy did, that her supply would run out if she doubled the amount for sessions. His programming already ran a deflection routine when she asked the first time, and asking a second time was a surefire way to get her kicked out. Not just back to the Compound, but out into the world, to fend for herself. She wasn't going to risk that.
There wasn't anything of note about session one ninety-two. Bedlam wouldn't give her his secrets, and Cindee stopped asking. What intrigued her more was that she knew there was potentially a way into his mind but her "scalpel" was closely guarded. Even after she pushed the button to release the purple cloud, she wanted to press it again. Buddy wasn't in the room, it would be easy, how would he know? She held her hand over the button long enough for her mind to get lost in a daydream about what could happen if she never let off of it. Could her father's formula be replicated enough for the rest of the population? The ones that have been turned into the silver fangs? That wasn't an official name for them but she had to call them something.
Bedlam hadn't yet evolved into the more 'feral' kind. The ones with no discernible human features are called Lich blight. Their pitch-black eyes and the lead fangs that they used to spread the condition were a result of the blighted air. The Blight's' lungs would be coated with the contamination, and exposure would work twice as fast as it would with the drones, eliminating the window needed to administer antibodies. Bedlam wasn't a human anymore. Well, a Blight but one that had a much better chance of being cured, if they could be cured. The most likely scenario is that Bedlam would permanently have the functions of a toddler.
They watched as the TNK slowly drained into the machine. The bags attached to the side of the machine filled until they looked as if they would burst.
“This is all we have Buddy.”
[Let’s look at the positives, ma’am. We may have all we need to save humanity.]
“Yes! That's good practice. My apologies. I have allowed being down here to cloud the good things.” [No need to apologize, Ms. Park. Which trial number are we on?] “It’ll be one ninety-four now, though it is like starting over. I’m half tempted to call this trial zero.”
The first trial with TNK didn’t produce any results. Cindee fell to the ground dejected. “I want to keep trying.”
[We cannot try again today, ma’am. We promised one trial per day.]
“I think that's bullshit, Buddy.”
[That’s a strange expression. I don’t know what it means.]
“It mea– never mind.”
[Was it another curse word?]
“Yes, it was.”
[Those are always fun to learn from you, ma’am.]
“I’m elated you enjoy them.” She said in a monotone.
She let her head fall back to the wall. Her eyes focused on the gray ceiling; her head fell to the side and she thought her neck would snap, but she didn’t fight it. Maybe it would be for the best. Her eyes then saw the control box on the wall. The ugly gray made it blend into everything else.
We will resume the trials tomorrow. I suggest getting some ‘shut-eye’ ma’am.
“I’m fine, Buddy.” She stood up and started slowly walking to Buddy’s control box. Her time was almost gone.
Buddy caught on to what she was doing. [Cindee, if you open that panel, my programming will automatically alert the response team, and they will make their way down here to detain you. Acknowledge!]
Cindee reached the panel door and pushed on it with her hand; it sprung open.
[Ms. Park, I am issuing you one final warning! Acknowledge!]
Cindee reached in and grasped the wires that were gathered in a rat's nest.
[The response team has been alerted! Acknowledge!]
“I acknowledge that you can shut the fuck up, Buddy!” Cindee yanked at the wires
[Nooo] – until an electrical buzz drowned out Buddy’s voice.
His arms drooped slowly. His lifeless face became even more lifeless. The sickly gray in his eyes wilted away and was finally sapped.
Then she heard the alarm.
She stood and walked to Bedlam’s enclosure. She ripped the key off of her neck and put it in the slot. “Ready Bedlam?”
She hit the button. Again, and again, and again, and again….
The vial was empty now. Cindee thought of her father. Would he approve? Of course, he wouldn’t. Rafa was better than that. But he was gone. Killed by the very affliction Cindee was attempting to cure. She was on the floor, weeping.
She heard the abrupt sound of the elevator whirring. She knew it was over. She barely had the strength to look up from the floor. Her tears wet the concrete until her trembling hand was covered. The elevator stopped; the sliding doors slammed open. Cindee put her hand on the glass of Bedlam’s capsule to support herself as she tried to stand. Her legs were too weak to stand all the way and she dropped again to her knees. She looked into the enclosure, still filled with the purple vapors. Bedlam couldn’t be seen. The response team had rushed in, surrounded Cindee, and pointed their guns at her head. She wept, knowing her time was up.
Then she heard the guns lift and aim at something else.
She lifted her head and saw a hand matching perfectly to her hand on Bedlam’s side of the glass! The vapors had finally dissipated, and Bedlam was kneeling in front of her, with his hand on the glass, looking right at her.
“hi” His lips were gaining some of their former shape. Enough for her to see the effort to greet his ‘roommate’
“Oh shit, call Mr. Fauslin!”
Cindee met Bedlam’s eyes, which now had slight shades of color in them. She smiled and let out a laugh through her cries. “It worked! Daddy, it wor…”
A gun was cocked and the trigger was pulled.
Blood splattered on the glass
Cindee dropped lifelessly to the floor.
Another member of the team grabbed the vial off of the enclosure. The word ‘Tenecteplase’ was scratched out and replaced with ‘Rafael Park’s Cure.” Underneath that, it read ‘fuck you, Leon. My dad was right!’’ The team pointed their guns at the enclosure. Bedlam had stood up and was looking at each of them. He had the cognition to cover his eyes from the flashlights on the front of the rifles. The leader of the team grabbed his radio and called for the extraction of the new TNK. “We have to send it through the time machine now!”
The machine was turned on, and an expendable soldier was sent in with the TNK, to the place where the first Blight was created. As soon as the explosion occurred, the soldier threw the pressurized vial on the ground and shot it, causing a stream of TNK to hit the Blight as they were filing out.
The TNK hit some and they fell helplessly to the ground, other Blight fought tooth and nail to get at the soldier. He was tackled and their teeth ripped his flesh. He bled out as the cure took hold. The blight stopped biting and writhed as their infection was being healed. The soldier smiled through the intense pain, knowing he helped save the world.
The soldier team monitoring Bedlam saw that his fangs were regressing. “Holy shit, it really worked.” One of the men said. Bedlam was again on his knees watching Cindee’s body, like a protector.
A digital timer on the wall hit zero, and the enclosure door opened. Bedlam stood and looked the soldiers in the eyes, and his fangs grew larger..
The End.
