A Game of Risk

by Bella Forrest

  “So how long have you been in allegiance with The Shade?” he asked. His voice was steady, albeit tinged with a hint of disappointment.

  So much for my resolve to hold myself back. His words grated on me intolerably. Here he was, keeping me an unlawful prisoner in this room and having the gall to conduct this meeting like it was an interrogation.

  “How long have you known about the antidote?” I shot back.

  He sighed even more heavily. “About fourteen years.”

  His truthfulness—assuming that he had spoken the truth—took me aback. I was so used to his words being lies or twisted in some way. I wasn’t sure how to read him being straightforward with me. If that was what he was being, I couldn’t help but feel that this was a bad sign. There was something ominous about his demeanor.

  I was tempted to prod him to go on, but allowed him to go at his own pace.

  His eyes took on a distant quality, no longer staring at me, as though he was losing himself in memories. “It happened one Christmas Eve. I had been in my office, holding an emergency conference call. We had been discussing a recent finding that had come to light among some of our scientists involving the Bloodless. Unbeknownst to me at the time, your mother had heard every word of the conversation and, in the days that followed, began tracking down the scientists involved.” He rubbed his temples. “She never did understand my methods. One could say that our marriage started going downhill ever since she got to know me better. She didn’t like what she saw because she didn’t understand me… She refused to understand me.”

  What is there about you to be understood? You’re just a power-hungry—

  “When it came to my attention that she had been in touch with the scientists and, indeed, had not only founded an underground movement to spread propaganda and information about the antidote via the deep web, but also arranged clandestine seminars to demonstrate the cure with the aim of popularizing the knowledge worldwide, I had no choice but to put a stop to it.” He coughed dryly, his eyes returning to me. “I was hoping that you, Lawrence, would be different. That I could strip you of whatever conditioning you might have picked up from your mother, and train you to be the best that you could be. A good worker. A good asset to our organization. But then you, too, deviated… You’ve asked me before why you have a gap in your memory—from the date of your graduation, up until the moment you woke up in The Shade. Would you like to know why that is?”

  I nodded, even as the knots in my stomach continued to grow tighter. It felt like the more information he was spilling to me, the more my fate was being sealed. But if I was going to die anyway, I would rather die in knowledge and clarity than ignorance and confusion. As painful as it was, I would rather understand the full truth about everything my father was.

  “History repeated itself that fateful day of your graduation,” he went on. “I promised you that I would be there for your ceremony but unfortunately, I had been unable to attend. I must say, though, Lawrence, that I had fully intended to. Circumstances just… got in the way. I received another urgent call which I had to take in my apartment. Another conference call, ironically. Angered at my absence, you came looking for me as soon as the ceremony was over. You had a spare key to my apartment at the time. And you eavesdropped on the conversation… I was discussing some things involving your mother. And I might have let slip a thing or two about what truly happened to her the night her car went sliding off the mountain.”

  I gaped at him, stunned at his coolness, his callousness, when speaking of his own wife’s, my mother’s, death. I couldn’t help but wonder how he ever could’ve loved her in the first place. Perhaps he hadn’t. Perhaps he had only married her because he’d seen some use in her. And when she’d “deviated”, it hadn’t been difficult to write her off as yet another one of the IBSI’s long list of losses. Either that, or he was mentally unhinged.

  His words were like poison to my ears as he continued. “I’m afraid to say it, Lawrence, but her death was not the accident the papers made it out to be. It was planned, meticulously. Her movements had been monitored and we had found out about her activities. Unfortunately, I had no option but to lay her to rest. She would not have stopped until she wrecked every single plan I had ever made. Every vision the IBSI had for our planet’s future. She had to be stopped for the good of our planet, and countless generations to come.”

  “So,” I began, my voice trembling as I spoke. I could hardly even get a word out straight. “S-So you had her assassinated. You murdered her.”

  He nodded. “I’m afraid that I did.”

  Hearing this admission straight from my father’s mouth, I couldn’t help but choke up. I could hardly breathe for several moments as the revelation sank in fully—to the very core of me—for the first time.

  My mother. My beautiful, loving mother had been snatched from this world by my own father. He was the cause of all those years of suffering without her. All those years of grief. And I was only one story. One life affected by him. God knew how many other hundreds and thousands of people had suffered needlessly because of his suppression of the antidote for fourteen years. Fourteen years. That was like an eternity in this day and age, in this world ravaged by preying supernaturals, where a vast percentage of the population woke up not even knowing if they’d make it to the end of the day.

  “Why?” I croaked. Although my father had touched on the subject, he still had not given me a real reason. He spoke in riddles, of vague notions of “doing things for the greater good”, “sacrificing for future generations”, but he never explained how. How his actions could possibly be for the good of anybody but himself and the rest of his power-hungry colleagues.

  He stood up behind his desk and began to pace slowly up and down, prowling like a panther.

  “Why do you think I do it, Lawrence? Answer me that first.”

  I hadn’t been expecting him to redirect his question. I found myself stumbling for words. The truth was, I didn’t know. I only had my own speculations to go by, along with Ben and Grace’s. “Power? Control? If the Bloodless disappeared overnight, what excuse would you have for maintaining your status quo? Everyone knows that the Bloodless are the only creatures you are truly effective at quelling… And that’s why you can’t stand vigilantes, right? Even though the people of The Shade—The Shadow League—have only ever worked for the same thing you supposedly are, you call them meddling. Destructive. All you ever did was try to trip them up, never even attempt to combine forces and work with them. More than supernatural crime and loss of human lives, you hate vigilantism. Isn’t that fact alone enough to lay bare where you and all your people stand?”

  I felt quite winded as I finished. I felt sickened to my stomach just contemplating my father’s and the rest of the IBSI’s behavior.

  The corners of my father’s mouth twitched in a smile. A bitter half-smile. “That’s what everybody thinks,” he remarked, “so it’s understandable why you would fall for that, too. It’s an easy soundbite. ‘The IBSI are control freaks. Power-hungry maniacs.’” He stopped pacing and leveled with me. “Now, I’ll be honest with you, son. There are definitely some who join the IBSI merely for the feeling of control and superiority. But those who come with this motive never last long. Because that is not, in fact, our ultimate objective. Maintaining our ‘status quo,’ as you eloquently put it, is merely a means to an end. Not an end in itself.” He resumed his seat behind the table. “The IBSI itself was born out of a vision—a vision that I have worked tirelessly to uphold to this very day. As hard as it might be for you to believe it now, I want to make this world a better place. I want to improve the state of people’s lives. For them to stop feeling weak and helpless in the face of supernaturals who can swarm our lands at any time.

  “For too long, humans have been the weak race—helpless creatures ripe for the plucking by virtually every supernatural in existence. Once they began to swarm to Earth in droves, something had to change… We started by developing a powerful creature f
or ourselves that could assist us in quelling at least the Bloodless—and our mutants were a result of that. And we are continuing to develop and make them stronger by the day… But that was only the first step. A temporary measure to help keep the chaos and loss of humans at bay. We needed to improve ourselves. Make ourselves a stronger species. We will never have the advantages that most supernaturals have, but we can at least make ourselves a force to be reckoned with. Make them think long and hard before attacking us.” He blew out, and gazed at me with an unsettling expression of melancholy. “You Lawrence, were the first true step in that direction. You see it for yourself how your speed almost rivals the Bloodless. Your strength still has some way to go, but you are equipped to fend for yourself in a way that most humans would never dream of. We wish to make all humans like you, but this requires a large amount of time, resources, and space for us to work. And we need control, not only to continue our developments, but to implement them when the time comes and we are ready.

  “There’s not a single other person or organization on the planet right now who shares the vision we have. Nobody else is working for the grander scheme of things. They simply live day by day, as though wearing blinders, without a thought for long-term planning or the history of the human race.

  “The reason it has been crucial for us to suppress the antidote in order to keep ourselves in control is because the moment the governments sense they no longer desperately need us, everything comes crashing down. The governments themselves are filled with stupid, incompetent people after nothing but power and assets. If they did not absolutely need us, they would not care for the IBSI. The leaders would all go off on their separate agendas, too blinded by their own selfish motives to think clearly or even consider for a moment how the human race will survive in the future… This world is full of monkeys, Lawrence. Monkeys in high places. The only way to deal with such a scenario is by force. By giving them no choice but to comply. That is why the IBSI must dominate and rule with an iron fist. That is why we can have no cracks! No loopholes for them to spot and use to try to thrust us out.” He paused to draw in a breath. The passion he had exerted in delivering his speech had flushed his cheeks. I could practically feel his intensity emanating through the screen, making the atmosphere of my small room buzz.

  When he continued it was in a quieter, though no less impassioned tone. “It pains me to see that you too have fallen into the trap of short-term vision. Looking around you and seeing only what is there today, rather than what will be there tomorrow. You too have, albeit unwittingly, been blinded by selfishness—by your personal connections. The friends you made on that island, the young woman you seem to have taken a fancy to… even your mother.” He closed his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands. “Her death was a tragic waste of a good life… I loved her, Lawrence, despite what you might think. I loved your mother deeply. But even I could realize that love equated to selfishness. If I was truly a man capable of love and compassion to others, then I would show it to as many people as I could. Your mother died thinking that she was doing what was right by exposing the antidote, not knowing she was actually attempting irreversible harm… And then when you eavesdropped on my conversation that night of your graduation, and you overheard me talking about your mother, you freaked out—as was to be expected. You confronted me and although I tried to explain, you would not listen… It was like déjà vu. I had no choice but to sedate you and impair your memory. And then I had to think what on earth I was going to do with you… You are my son, Lawrence. I had already been through the trauma of losing a wife. I did not want to lose you, too.

  “So I decided to give you a second chance. You were, after all, still so young. I hoped that if I could wipe your memory of that night, we could start afresh. So it was I who essentially volunteered you for the new drug trial we were preparing to run. I did not want you around Chicago. We took you to The Woodlands, where we had an underground lab. Where you would be isolated and—we thought—safe. Then, as usual, The Shadow League came along and wrecked everything. I had to personally go to The Shade and grovel in order for them to return you to me.”

  He paused, his eyes boring into me. “And now, Lawrence… I’m not sure where we can go from here. I’m not sure that I can ever trust you again. If the memory wipe did not fix things between us, then nothing will.”

  I glared back at him, although I couldn’t honestly say that it was with the same intensity as before. His explanation for his actions, spoken with such conviction and self-assurance, had shaken me. It had me wondering whether he really was telling the truth—whether, all along, he had truly believed he was working for the long-term benefit of humanity.

  It would explain a lot of things—like how he could bring himself to murder his wife, and why he had deliberately distanced himself from his own son. It was a personal sacrifice. He had to essentially make himself like a robot in order to step up to his self-appointed duty. In order to act logically, impassively, unswerved by emotion. In order to stick rigidly to the path he believed would lead to humanity’s liberation.

  My lips parted, but I did not know what to say. I felt hollow inside.

  What if my father is right?

  What if sacrifices have to be made in order to bring long-term benefit to Earth? What if the people of The Shade truly are only short-term thinkers?

  It felt like sand was sifting beneath my feet, the room around me spinning.

  As much as every instinct told me that my father had it all wrong, there was something about his assurance that shook me to the core.

  I had to stop being swayed by my own emotions in this moment and think clearly. Examine my father’s words objectively. He believed that the only way forward was to develop the human race into something else. Something more powerful—practically hybrid supernaturals. He was imagining a day long into the future where the human race would be but a shadow of its former self. But this mass-scale interference with nature simply didn’t seem right. Every instinct inside me told me that this could not possibly be the solution. It simply felt too… contrived. Too artificial.

  There had to be other ways to safeguard Earth’s future than this. Even if the IBSI did develop the drug to such an extent that the transformation could run as smoothly as simply popping a pill in one’s mouth.

  I swallowed, finding my voice again. “I have heard you,” I said, trying to speak diplomatically, even though I was still tearing up inside imagining the night he’d assassinated my mother. “I have listened to you carefully and tried to understand everything you have said. The motives behind your actions… But I’m still led to the conclusion that you’re wrong. That you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  My father’s brows lowered, his expression darkening in disappointment.

  “I don’t believe that the world has been waiting for you and your organization to come along to develop this drug, that without you and it, there is no future worth dreaming of for the human race… Have you even listened to The Shadow League regarding their long-term plans? Do you even know what they are striving for, what kind of future they are envisioning?”

  My father stayed stoic, his lips pursing.

  In truth, I didn’t know much about what The Shade’s leaders were planning either. I had not spent enough time with them. But I knew them to be an intelligent, thoughtful and sincere group of people who worked tirelessly to do what was right even when it would be so much easier to turn a blind eye. They were safe in their haven of an island already, weren’t they? They took up the thankless task of defending the weak because they saw it as their duty.

  And I didn’t believe that they were only thinking in the short term, like my father assured me they were. If he had never asked for their plans, what authority did he have to make such a statement?

  “Have you even met with The Shadow League for a discussion? Have you even given them the time of day to figure out a way you could join forces and work together, rather than constantly against each other? If you are truly i
n this for the betterment of mankind, why on earth wouldn’t you?”

  My father blew out. “I was afraid that you would venture down this train of thought… Unfortunately, there are irreconcilable differences. And yes, I do know what their so-called ‘long-term strategy’ is. We would have to be rather dense to not have guessed it by now, given the destruction they have caused to our bases in the supernatural dimension. They believe they will be able to recruit the very supernaturals who are causing us problems and turn them into the humans’ loyal protectors overnight. They are a lunatic bunch, with their heads up in the clouds. There is no pragmatism to their approach. They want to place their faith in these creatures who have already proved a million times over again that they cannot be trusted. They live in a utopia. The only thing they’ll end up doing is making the situation worse by recruiting yet more supernaturals to swarm down and—”

  “But have you actually talked to them about this?” I couldn’t help but press. “Have you spoken to them? They’re not stupid or impractical, as you make them out to be. I know—”

  My father stood abruptly from his chair and disappeared from the view of the camera. When he reappeared, he was much closer, so close that I could make out every line in his face. He was leaning on the edge of his desk. He stared directly into the lens, even as his right arm reached around the back of it.

  I tried to lean forward again in my own seat while meeting his gaze steadily. “Listen to me,” I said. I wasn’t sure what he was about to do, but I had a sick feeling in my stomach. “I could arrange a meeting. You could sit down to talk amicably. Like gentlemen. There’s no reason for such division and animosity. They are forgiving people and I could go there myself to—”

  My father held up a hand with a grimace. “Enough, Lawrence,” he said quietly. “I am afraid that you will not be going anywhere for a long, long time…”

  The screen flickered and went blank, plunging me into silence.