Requiem (24 page)

'No. What would
be the purpose of stealing something when you can obtain it for
free anyway? You couldn't sell it since everyone else has access to
that good as well.'

Belameir
glanced up at Seline as she made her way to one of the seats. 'Get
this,' said Belameir, 'did you know the Yurrick living in that city
– what was it called again?'

'Ondur,' said
Mercer.

'Yeah, did you
know that the Yurrick living in that place don't have to pay for
anything
. Don't have to pay for food, for rent, for doctor's
appointments, for, for fucking ski trips or holidays –
nothing!
'

Seline looked
up at Sear who was now standing at the dispensers next to Mercer.
She glanced down at the table. 'I wouldn't believe everything you
hear,' she said.

'In this case,
you can believe it,' said Mercer.

Seline looked
up at him. He was almost smiling. She hadn't noticed before how the
thin barbs that ran from the back of his head like the heckles on a
dog shifted with his expression.

'Why would
everything be free?' Seline asked. 'People would just start taking
advantage of it. How could something like that even work?'

'In what way
would people take advantage?' asked Mercer.

'Well, they'd
just take what they wanted whenever they wanted.'

'That's kind of
the point,' said Mercer.

'No... I mean,
they could just ask for a fifty room mansion, for ten jet ski's,
for... anything they wanted. It would get out of control.'

'And what would
be the purpose of having fifty rooms in a single house?' asked
Sear.

'Who knows?
It's... a show of success, of wealth... of power, I guess.'

Belameir was
nodding his head in agreement.

'It is a show
of stupidity and waste,' said Sear, without malice or anger, simply
as a statement. 'That is what Yurrick are brought up to believe. To
be in possession of such an estate is the sign of a mind that does
not understand its own impact on the world, a mind that is selfish,
and profoundly sick.'

Mercer said,
'If you're bought up to believe that you need a fifty room mansion,
if that's your measure of success, if that's what you think your
goal should be then that's what you're going to spend your life
trying to achieve. It's no surprise you think this way since that's
what humans have been doing for the past two thousand years, but
the Yurrick found out, before things got too out of hand, that such
a perspective is unsustainable in the long run.'

'What? So every
Yurrick just lives in peace and harmony and no one ever takes too
much of something?' said Belameir.

'Every
withdrawal is monitored,' said Sear. 'Large withdrawals are first
prioritised according to available resources. Consecutive large
withdrawals are uncommon and will generally require larger
community approval before moving ahead.'

'So what? I can
just ask for a brand new holo-display and I'll get it just like
that?' said Belameir.

'After you
order it from the manufacturing facilities, yes.'

Belameir looked
down at Seline. 'Hear that Sel? We've been doing it wrong the
entire time. While we're up on Yarfor station with both feet in the
gutter, just scraping by, the Yurrick are down on Ondur living in
the utopia fairy land of our dreams.'

'I get the
feeling you're being sarcastic,' said Mercer.

'This is a bit
hard to believe,' said Seline.

'Well, what if
someone decided to get a gun made,' argued Belameir, 'and then
start attacking people? Or they decided to blow up a building? You
can't tell me that's never happened before.'

'We have
systems in place to deal with such threats. These systems begin by
preventing such behaviour from arising in the first place through
education and diagnosing of potentially unstable individuals. If
these preventions are bypassed then we do have defence mechanisms
for such averse cases of violent or anti-social behaviour.'

'Well that
sounds just peachy then doesn't it?' said Belameir.

'That may work
for individuals but what's to stop someone from forming a group and
rebelling against the rest of your society?' asked Seline.

'Ideas,
ideologies can be dangerous things in the hands of those who do not
understand the limitations of belief. But in the hands of a mind
that understands empathy, reasoning, and reflexive thinking,
harmful ideas will not take root. In other words, an educated mind
is the best defence against faulty reasoning and harmful
beliefs.'

'Just because
you're smart doesn't mean you won't hurt or kill someone,' said
Belameir.

'A truly
intelligent person would know that it is in everyone's best
interest not to hurt another. Violence. The idea to kill or harm
another – unless in a rather extreme case of self defence – is
invariably an act of revenge. Revenge is itself a miscalculation.
It is wrong in terms of how best to resolve an issue and how best
to live one's life.'

'So you're
saying revenge is stupid?'

'Beyond stupid.
It is a harmful belief. And a harmful belief is, generally, a wrong
belief.'

'Is that why
you guys carry around rifles?' said Belameir. 'So you can shoot
friendship bullets at people?'

'Violence is
only justified in extreme cases of self defence. It just so happens
that our role puts us into such situations,' said Sear.

'That's
convenient,' said Belameir.

'No. It's just
generally the case when Ordonians and humans are involved,' said
Mercer.

Belameir and
Seline both looked at him. 'Don't get me wrong,' said Mercer, 'I
like you two but there's nothing worse than trying to talk sense
into a human too high on endorphins. Therin may get angry but
that's because she thinks it's useful when dealing with humans, and
even then, it's nothing compared to you guys.'

Seline didn't
know why the words came out so bitter. 'We're not all like that you
know?' She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. She didn't
know why she felt like she was being insulted. Perhaps it was the
fact that she couldn't think of anything to say, perhaps it was
like Belameir said, that the struggle they'd both had to endure for
their whole lives was cheapened somehow by the ease of which the
Yurrick lived, perhaps, and this was the most disconcerting idea of
all, it was the fact that she was being associated with a race that
was looked upon as an example of what failure looks like. She was
merely a part of a chapter in a Yurrick text book; something to be
studied and understood and avoided at all costs. A story that was a
learning device and nothing more; a 'how to' guide on how not to
live your life.

Seline looked
up at Sear and Mercer. She had no idea what thoughts might be going
through their heads so she invented her own. They would be thinking
that whatever fundamental flaw underlined human civilization must
surely form a part of her foundation as well. They would be
thinking that she was doomed to so some kind of self-destructive
pathos somewhere down the line; or had she already passed that
stage?

Seline watched
Sear for some kind of signal. He gave none. With the bitterness
still in her voice, she asked, 'Is that what you were doing on
Earth for so long? Teaching all the humans to get along?'

Sear said
nothing to this. The silence opened its jaws, wrapped its tongue
around the entire room and swallowed it down its gullet.

The Doctor
appeared in the doorway. He was quiet for a moment, deciphering the
awkward silence. 'Alright,' he began, 'I give up. Who died?' He
waited for a response but there was none so he directed his eyes at
Belameir. 'If it was you then you would've at least had an excuse
for not showing up for your fitness test. But since you appear to
be alive, I will ask that you follow me.'

A group of the
devout stood in the dim haze of the underground bunker beneath the
abandoned warehouse complex no more than four kilometres from the
outskirts of Corporate Zone One.

The dust was
thick, it sunk into the lungs of the embattled few that had
gathered there, collecting as sediment upon their insides. A single
fluorescent bulb hung from the ceiling, dangling from exposed wires
like the entrails of a small animal. The pathetic light it gave off
cast grave, indentured shadows over the faces of those below
it.

There was a
vague sense of something inside The Warlord's chest. He might have
called it pride if he'd known better. He looked over those he had
gathered in the warehouse's bunker. Exiles a dozen times over. That
these pariahs, these martyrs, these saints would become the saviour
of so many was something he deemed inevitable. Humanity had endured
enough. Nothing could or would stop this saving grace.

'Sir, can we
really trust the insider?' said Daniels, leaning with his hands
down on the faded chrome of the table in the centre of the
room.

'Habel has
proven himself already. I've seen his work and read his words. He
is our best chance,' said the Warlord.

'Then what does
that say of our chances?' said the woman, Jemma, sitting on the
edge of the crate back from the others. A rifle was propped up
between her legs. Her shaved head was resting against the side of
the barrel.

'Your
reservations are understandable,' said the Warlord, 'but I have
seen what the serum is capable of. It is a comfortable death. Habel
is risking much by helping us.'

'No one doubts
the risk involved. Our only doubt...' Daniels paused and looked at
the surrounding faces to reassure his position, 'our only doubts
surround the
motivations
of the inside help that you have
recruited.'

'Speak your
mind, Daniels.'

'We know
nothing of Habel's history. Who he was born to, who taught him, the
conditions of his childhood-'

'You think that
because someone is not born in the Insolvency that they cannot
sympathise with the plight common to all mankind?'

'I merely wish
to express caution when trusting the word of an exec. After all,
that is the only thing we have – his word.'

'I have seen
the experiments first hand. I have seen the results of the serum
myself. Do you doubt my judgement?'

'No, Warlord. I
just can't... it seems more an opportunity for an overly ambitious
exec than for us.'

The Warlord was
silent for a moment. 'What you say is true and I take these doubts
into consideration with every passing day but there comes a time
when trust must be granted. He came to us because he shares our
beliefs and there is no one whom he can trust within the corporate
system. He needs our help, I believe that much is true. I have
withheld for as long as possible but if we delay any longer the
window will close.' He looked directly at Daniels through thick,
dark lenses. 'However, since you have voiced your concern so
strongly at every given opportunity despite being repeatedly
assured then I will assign you to Habel's personal security. You
will monitor him throughout the entire process and report your
findings, or lack thereof, to me. Do you find this
satisfactory?'

Daniels said
nothing. He looked once more over the small committee. He nodded at
the Warlord and stood back, resting against the wall and crossing
his arms.

The Warlord
stood back from the makeshift table in the centre of the room and
looked at the others. 'The time has come. You have your orders...
my final word to you will be this: never before has humanity been
so reliant, in such a state of need as it is at this very moment.
The importance of our actions today cannot be stressed enough. You
all know what your roles are in this and what is expected of
you...' he pulled his hands behind his back. No one in that room
could see his gaze shift down to the dirt floor as he contemplated
what to say. 'I will not diminish your actions with any more words.
Prepare your men. Take your positions. At my signal we begin the
assault.'

Daniels gave a
curt nod to the Warlord and was the first to evacuate from the
silence by heading towards the staircase on the far side of the
room. The others followed suit and left the room without speaking.
The Warlord stood in the sparse light alone, listening to the feet
scuffing over the broken concrete floor above. After a moment he
switched the light off and ascended the stairs into the warehouse.
As he rose from the basement floor, the scattered groupings of
bodies gathered before the metal staircase that had fallen from the
second story of the warehouse in a collapsed heap of rusted joints
and bracings. What little remained of the staircase itself was
barely capable of supporting the Warlord but it made a good
pedestal nonetheless.

The Warlord
looked over the group of hopefuls standing before him. Some would
say they were cowards. Others would say, in a time when such things
might have mattered, that they were criminals. Most simply wouldn't
care, or rather, would find themselves incapable of caring.

'The time has
come' he said. Silence filled the room. It directed and heaped its
weight upon him and he carried it without complaint. 'Until this
moment, I have kept the blueprints for my plan to only a select
few. This has been for security reasons which I'm sure you can all
understand. But the time has come for you to learn the true form of
humanity's salvation.' The Warlord opened the metal case that he
had attached to his belt and took out a small, glass vial. He
closed the case and held the vial up in his hand for the others to
see. All at once their heads raised up, following his hand.

'This is a
toxic nerve serum. It was designed in a NeoCorp lab by one of their
leading scientists. Its effects are almost immediate – dizziness,
paralysis, and death. When introduced to water the serum is
undetectable. And this is of primary importance for the first stage
of the plan, for this serum will be administered through the water
treatment plants in every corporate zone on Earth.