Chapter 25: Absolute Domination (PART II)

Catherine felt a wave of a newer hack fused into the simulation. The girl took a step back to rescan her numbers, noticing how her own numbers started to change in frequency and in color. Roger supported the purple numbers as well, giving more of his brain energy to create more simulations to contain that of the girl's. As he looked to his left, there she was standing next to him with her hair shorter than before. She wore glasses, a long black vest that stretched to her vests along with black boots. Roger smiled, snarling as he released more simulations and the one standing beside him used her energy to fasten the process. Catherine fell on her back as she watched her world eaten by the mixture of the blue and purple numbers, surrounding her core and sealing all the numbers around it. Roger turned around to look at her, to look at Tamara.

"I knew you'd come," Roger said

"I have to hear it from you," Tamara replied, smiling as she turned back looking at the little girl. She raised her hand, Roger did the same.

"Now!" Roger shrilled.

They sealed the girl inside her head without being able to look outwards. With her defeat, they were all pulled back into the real world. The girl's eyes were still closed. Roger was the last to wake up, looking at Tamara standing beside him with bits of her eyes glowing around her eye pulps. Roger turned around to see the bots having their canons aimed at the members.

"He's up there, I got these," Tamara said, the girl was sleeping beside her. Roger jumped and went striding up the stairs, glaring at the army of robots submitting to Tamara's orders.

I see now how I can't control the organization's sealed bots. Bob installed the chip in Tamara because he believed she would bring an end to the organization. In that case, Dad put the chip in me not to stop the organization, but to deal with Owinson. But how? What exactly am I supposed to do with Owinson?

Roger stood at the doorstep of the room. He stepped inside; there was a small office with a fan at the top of the ceiling. Liam Troddle's back faced Roger as he set eyes upon Owinson's painting. It was a painting of a man standing tall with a long vest.

"Ah, the younger generation, always striving to overthrow us. That's why you need us to guide you, because we know better than you do. You see, it's never our intention to dictate the future, or even dictate the present. We just like to stand as middlemen, casting our judgment because we are the ones who made the sacrifice," Troddle said, turning towards Roger. He put the cigarette stick in between his lips, covering the fire with his palm before it was lit.

"It's over, Troddle. Owinson's next. This madness ends here," Roger said. Liam pulled in before releasing through his mouth and nostrils, gently tapping on the cigarette as the ashes rained on the ashtray.

"What madness? The organization? Me? Owinson? You? Everyone will be over at some point, everyone will perish. I told them just now, one should enjoy one's self and extend his life. The whole purpose of life is survival, Owinson thinks the same. We only differ in matters of mind and body. But this? This cycle of evolution? You can't stop this! One day regular people will be able to plug into the matrix through cables attached to their hands, like it's nothing while everyone seems to be making a fuss because we want to connect the human mind to the machine the same way everyone was upset about placing machines in factories instead of workers, now look at us."

"That future is not for certain."

"Those before us said the same. People protested against robots replacing our jobs, they protested against privacy invasion and companies using data to further their marketing schemes. People keep on protesting against anything, but you can never protest against evolution, it's a simple fact of life."

"I guess we'll have to disagree on what we define as evolution," Roger said, readying himself.

Liam smiled. He put his feet on the floor, stubbing his cigarette. "You know, Doing what you can, how immoral, to break those who disagree with you is not exactly fanaticism. I guess we all do what we feel is right, that's enough of a justification."

Catherine opened her eyes again.

A bot flipped the table after Liam stepped away. Roger couldn't escape as the bot had a tight grip on his neck and hung him on the wall, tightening on him.

"You're- You're gonna live your—" Roger started asking, his hands were on the bot's trying to shake his hands off.

"It was never about the members, but the idea," Liam said, opening a secret door behind the closet before he slipped through it. Roger turned to the bot, smashing a whole wooden clog upon its skull. The bot didn't wince, Roger could feel his cold metal fingers digging through him. He attempted desperately invade his neural interface. He manipulated the light, the circuit, nothing happened. Roger started blacking out, his vision blurring.

"Tamara!" he yelled, she seemed busy downstairs. He caught a virtual line across the room, using the electricity circuit. His consciousness left his body and traveled across the light straight into the simulation, finding the purple world of his loved one. Bits of his consciousness were shaking, even starting to vanish as Roger started to black out back in his own body.

"I need help!"

"Oh," she replied, sending a quick spark back into that same line accompanied by Roger's consciousness. The bot stopped, taking a step back before fire rose from the top of its skull. Roger fell on the floor panting, his hand on his neck as he coughed and leaned on the table. He put his hand on head, unable to keep his flow of his breath. Roger crawled out of the room, watching two separate armies of bots fighting each other. Tamara stood at the far side, struggling to keep the control over the robots while Catherine did it without a wince.

She just doesn't stop. We sealed the smallest bits of her data, how could she come back this fast?

The members of the organization escaped. Some of them were caught in the laser fire as it jumped from both sides. Tamara looked at Roger, trying not to signal Catherine to his presence behind her. Even Tamara's robots were starting to lose the bits of her consciousness in her, turning against her, Roger stood. He turned around at the secret door, wondering what should be done.

Catherine kept a straight face as veins trenched her face. Over a hundred million simulations were active at the same time as each robot's movement was orchestrated by her, even the swings and evasions. Still, she was stopping all of a sudden. Catherine froze at the sight of Roger squatting next to her until they were both the same height. He smiled towards her; she was bewildered at that strange smile. No bot came back to hurt him, none even dared. Both figures looked at each other in amazement. A ripple of time, a circle of numbers contained the both of them while everything was slowing down outside. Their breaths and voiced echoed.

"Tell me, Catie, why are you fighting?"

Roger spotted the falling tear off her left eye.

"I don't know," she said, weeping. "It's painful, I want mom back."

"I want mom back too. I've always did. I'm aching as well, and do you know I am about to die because of my pain?"

"I don't understand."

"Yes, but you are different. Your pain gives you more chances at avoiding my death. Your pain gives you life, mine gives me death. But in between the two, we meet here. Come on, baby girl, grab my hands and let's get you back home to your father," Roger said, stretching his hand to her. She seemed hesitant, pulling herself away.

She was sniveling. "You're a threat."

Roger closed his eyes, sat on the floor with his feet crossed. The yellow cubes inside that circle enveloped his own simulation as well, he allowed her to reach his core. Still, he was still himself, she had no control of him, yet he had given her the keys to his mind and heart.

"Do you trust me now?"

"But why? I can control you now."

"Because I trust you. I don't trust the numbers, I don't trust the probabilities. I trust you, I see your heart. Look into my eyes, Catie, come on."

She looked away. He gently put his finger under her chin, diverting it to his eyes. They looked into each other eyes, he saw her tears. She was weeping inside the simulation, and even back to the real world.

"Do you promise the pain will stop?" she asked.

"No, but I promise it's supposed to mean something. When you understand that, and if you learn to calm down, it will stop. You just have to trust me now," Roger said, keeping his hands hung in the air. He took a step closer towards her. He closed his eyes in submission to her. She could have sealed all his data. She could have controlled his mind and used his chip to destroy all. Still, all she had done was surround her arms around his neck, soaking his cloth in salt tears. Time went back to its regular flow, accompanied by the fall of every robot out there. Tamara left her cover, looking at the weeping little girl clutching in Roger's clothes. She smiled, observing how Roger had grown and overcame the two-dimensionality of his chip. One could notice how the essence of Catie's brown eyes returned back to her.

She held Roger and Tamara's hand as they walked out of the place.

Outside the place, Liam pushed the opening in the wall as he tossed himself out of the linen factory. As he leapt on the ground, wiping the dust off his clothes, a mob of armed men and a lady had their guns aimed at him. At the very front stood Patrick Lorenzo, his gun resting on his forearm. Liam watched how two special forces vehicles were stacked up with his friends. Still, his eyes were linked to the sight of what they had built their glorious city in darkness.

"Oh it has began," Liam said, chuckling. "You can't stop it now, there is no stopping it now."

"Shut up," Patrick said, rolling the locks around his wrists, lending him to an agent to take him to the car. Patrick approached the coming trio, keeping up to Roger.

"What happened to the city?" Roger asked. Tamara stayed at the back with the little girl as three more agents surrounded them.

"Full blackout, even the larger corporations, even the police stations. Something seems to be drawing its power, we need to head back," Patrick said.

"No, we can't do that, Pat," Agent Beaver said. "The prisoners will be taken into custody. As for us, there's a safe house near here. The chip guy and the girl, and the little one too, can come with us if they want. The city's not safe, I hear there's riots out there."

Patrick turned back, looking at Roger standing at the other end of the road. Patrick took the little girl into his arms, nodding for Tamara to speak to him. The Polion girl stood beside him, her hand stretching to hold his before withdrawing back.

"I guess this is the part where I try to convince you not to go back there. This is when I try to tell you how it matters to live, to let go, how it was your dream to leave Garlem. Only now you choose to go back there. I guess this is the part where I tell you that I lov-"

"He's calling for me, Tam," Roger said, his voice calmer than before and deeper. He stood tall, looking at the city as fire rose from across its districts. He could hear the screams from afar, the gunshots. At the center of the chaos, Owinson sent him the signal. Tamara stood clueless, slowly coming to realize it was no more than the end itself. Her eyes started watering.

"Owinson revealed his location, he's somewhere in the city. Everything I've done led to this exact moment. I sure can walk away, leave this city at least for one day before… before it happens,"

"One day? I thought you had one month!"

"I used enough brain energy. I got twenty hours left now. I even started sensing my body numbing; I may not be able to move later. This is it, this is the end," Roger said, not seeming satisfied. He spoke with the voice of one who had regretted the extent of his journey. It was the voice of regret, of death. Tamara closed her eyes, the tear walking across her tender cheeks before his thumb stopped it. She opened her eyes, looking at Roger's hand on her jaw. His thumb pressed her cheek.

"Before you go, I want you to meet the one who brought me here," Tamara said, smiling and pointing to Roger's left. He saw the trailer, that same trailer from the days of the sea. The fat fellow stood next it, walking towards the young man. Roger's eyes widened, his heart beating. He limped to his Uncle, starting to run while the weighty fellow spread his arms. They hugged.

"You little snake! I knew you were up to something."

"Uncle, there's so much I wanted to say--"

"Try not to care about it, your girlfriend told me everything when she asked my help to bring her here, to save you. I'll be damned if your mother ain't proud of you. That bullhead of a father you had would be happy too."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You remember our deal, don't you? It was our secret, that I will always remain your son."

"Hell yeah I do, you sure are my little runt," Uncle said, seeming to be sniveling. His heart was beating, his chest was prickled. He only felt so during the death of his wife and son, and the death of his sister. He knew the runt wasn't coming back.

"The things I said to you before."

"What things, my boy? I only remember you and I running from the beach guard. Come here, son," Uncle said, holding the one he chose to live for since the day his own family died. He held him close the same way he held him when he was a child. Tamara's hot tears wriggled their way out of her eyes as well. Roger stepped away from the old man, walking towards the girl. They stood watching the city on fire, hearing the screams and riots from afar. A chaos one with a darker taste would enjoy. He turned to her, wiping a falling tear off her cheek.

"I love you too," Roger said, withdrawing his hand from her and walking down the hill all the way to where it all started, to Garlem.