Paradise of Lead Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  Alexi turns to the door. "I simply can't take this risk. Bring him."

  Damien and Byron grab Isidore's arms and drag him out the door and down the streets to the courtyard where a crowd of Rubble Rebels is gathered.

  They are already here and waiting. Isidore realizes that he never had a chance to be innocent. Their minds were made up long before Alexi was talking with him. His fate has been predetermined and nothing he could have said would have changed their minds. Byron and Damien leave him against the concrete wall of the headquarters and Isidore looks over the thousands of bullet holes behind him. They're going to shoot him.

  "Isidore Williams, you are to be executed for the crime of being a spy for the Inquisition. Do you have anything to say on your behalf?" Commander Alexi asks.

  "I'm innocent. I never spied on anyone." Isidore locks eyes with Byron. "Byron, tell them I saved you. Tell them you're my friend and you believe me. Don't let them kill me."

  Byron turns his back on him.

  The hot tears burn in Isidore's eyes and he grows desperate as he begs. "No. Byron! I thought you were my friend. I'm not a spy. I have no idea what's going on. I don't know why Blice gave that to me. You can have it. Don't kill me. Please. Damien?"

  "Accept your fate, computer." Damien says. "You should have done what I told you."

  Commander Alexi holds up his hand. "If the accused does not have anyone who will step forward and offer a defense, then we have to rely on the evidence presented to us. I really had hoped that you could be a good man, Isidore Williams. We all trusted you and you betrayed that trust. Now you will learn that we do not accept any kind of treachery and treason in Rubble City. Ready."

  Isidore watches as the Rubble Rebels he had once believed would be there for him raise their guns and aim at him. He closes his eyes and the tears streak down his face.

  "Fire."

  * * *

  Byron drinks his tequila as he watches Damien throwing knives across the room where they stick into the wall opposite from his bed. "Makes me glad I'm not a spy." Byron says as he spins the metal disc left over from Vanessa's steering wheel.

  "What?" Damien asks as he picks up another knife and tests the sharpness on his finger.

  "Firing squad. Really?"

  "I don't want to talk about it." Damien throws the knife.

  "Do you think Isidore was really a spy?"

  "No."

  "Then why didn't you stand up for him?" Byron asks.

  "I refuse to stand up for someone who won't stand up for himself."

  "They killed him."

  "Doesn't matter." Damien says. "The Inquisition got what they wanted. They got their microchip back. Just be glad they didn't kill any more citizens when they came and got his body."

  Byron stops drinking and he looks out the window. "Did we just let an innocent man be killed?"

  "Yep."

  "I should have said something when he asked me."

  "And incriminate yourself? No. You did the right thing. We can't risk our lives for the pseudo life of a computer." Damien says.

  "I guess it's just you and me now."

  "And seven hundred Rubble Rebels. Don't forget them."

  "I'm a terrible person." Byron says. "Isidore was my friend and I could have saved him. What kind of friend does that?"

  "Don't you think I feel terrible too?" Damien asks.

  "No. I really don't think you do. You wanted him to suffer because he is different than you. Isidore was my friend. I cared about him and I would have done anything for him. He was good man and he was so young. He looked to us for guidance and what did we do? We let him die."

  "You know why I didn't save him when I could?" Damien asks. "To teach him a lesson."

  "Why was it your place to teach him anything?"

  "I was his temporary administrator, remember? Alexi said so." Damien says.

  "How was he supposed to learn anything from being killed and betrayed by his friends?"

  Damien points a knife at Byron. "Traitors are the best teachers. The lessons we teach are definitive and should be taught at the moment of death. That way with his dying breath, the student can realize his mistakes before he goes to hell."

  It is in this moment that Byron questions his relationship with Damien Montgomery. If he is willing to shoot his partner for no reason and watch his friend die when he could step in and stop it because he has his own twisted version of justice, then what is stopping him from turning on Byron in the same way? The past three weeks have completely distorted the way Byron views the man he held so close to his heart as his friend and confidant.

  Isidore. The cold and definitive reality of what happened in the middle of town today is just now starting to fully dawn on Byron and he can't accept it as fact. Any minute now, Isidore will come in and they will play cards or talk about how much he liked a microwave he saw in the bar. He has to come back. Byron needs that crazy kid. And then it hurts even more to think about how he was only twenty years old. The thought of Byron dying six years before now is terrible and he wouldn't have ever had a chance to live. Isidore had so much potential to care for people and do good in this hellish world. Even if he was a computer, Byron loved him like a human brother. And he let that brother die.

  For what reason? He looks over at Damien who is carving something into the wall. The fear of losing a traitor as a friend. Byron slips his boots on and grabs his backpack. "Don't wait up for me."

  "Where are you going?" Damien asks.

  "I don't know. Anywhere but here."

  Damien waits until Byron leaves then attaches the golden sensor to his arm and calls the last man he wants to talk to right now. "Seth, we have a problem."

  "Well, what happened to you? You sound absolutely miserable."

  "We need to start over on W.A.N.D."

  "Why?" Seth asks.

  "Isidore Williams is dead."

  Seth's rage reflects in his voice. "You were in charge of keeping him safe. How did he die?"

  "Firing squad. We found an Inquisition insignia on him and he had a communicator that connected directly to Blice McSage. The Rubble Rebels labeled him as a spy and killed him."

  "Did you tell them that was ridiculous?"

  "Well . . . not exactly." Damien says as he tosses a knife up at the ceiling.

  "You didn't say anything on his behalf, did you?" Seth asks. "God, you are the single worst person on this planet. How can you be so damn evil? That's the only word I have for it. I don't care if he was a computer or not. Even if he wasn't able to fully feel emotions, he was capable of knowing that he was about to die and the person who had been at his side for months remained silent when false accusations were pointed at him. I hope you burn in hell. I really do."

  "Why are you so quick to defend him?"

  "We needed him, Montgomery."

  Damien continues carving on the wall. "We can get another computer, maybe one without the human factor. Just a simple computer."

  "It's not that easy and you know it. We need a computer who can be like a human, infiltrate the space station, befriend the T.I.M.E.s, and pass on his genetic code for the possibility of making more T.I.M.E.s who will be shipped back down here. Then we will have our own army of human computers capable of being expendable human targets with the capability to keep W.A.N.D. up and running when we evacuate."

  "Why do you leave me out of the plans? If I had known that Isidore's DNA was that valuable, I would have done more to save him. I thought it was a simple replacement situation."

  "We have two options now." Seth says. "The first one is to start completely over on the logistics and the design of W.A.N.D. The second is to attempt to sign a treaty with the Inquisition and end this petty fighting between government factions. They own the T.I.M.E.s in space and if we get on their good side, we can ask for them to be allowed to mate and have some sent down here after that."

  "I don't like either one of those plans."

  "You fucked up." Seth says.

  "I know, all
right? There's nothing I can do about it now."

  "I thought he was your friend."

  Damien traces the letters he carved into the rough wood plank in the wall. "He was."

  "I really think you need to reevaluate your view of what friendship is. What about Byron? Where is he?"

  "In Rubble City. No one's allowed to leave."

  "Don't let him die too." Seth says. "His role might be small, but he is still essential."

  "Byron is the closest friend I have ever had."

  "Are you sure about that? Traitors don't usually have a lot of friends except for other traitors. Then you have an endless cycle of betraying and being betrayed."

  "Like you and me." Damien says.

  "Exactly."

  There was some other important piece of information he wanted to talk to Seth about. What was it? Oh yah. The hologram. "I still don't understand why Blice would help Isidore so much and why Isidore's name appeared in the security database as having level 10 clearance."

  "Wait. Didn't Blice have level 10 clearance as well?"

  "That's what you told me the scan showed. Why are we stupid? Run a scan on Isidore Williams."

  "Okay. Starting it now."

  They are silent for a few moments until Seth chuckles. "Oh, this is too good."

  "What? What is it?"

  Seth starts laughing.

  "Tell me what it is."

  "We are never getting a treaty signed with the Inquisition." Seth says. "You can throw out that possibility right now. You might have actually incited a civil war. You know what? I'm not going to tell you what I found. It's more fun to torment you with it. You basically killed him so you don't get to know about him."

  "I really hate you."

  "The feeling is mutual."

  "Did you say a civil war?" Damien asks. "Now I'm really confused. How did Isidore's death maybe spark a full on civil war?"

  "I would love to tell you, but you just said you hate me. I'm the one with the computers and the data and still trusted enough by the Inquisition to be allowed to live in Paradise whereas you are the traitor who is losing the trust of people more and more every day."

  "So what am I supposed to do now that my prime objective is dead?"

  "Focus on securing the secondary objective." Seth says. "I will meet with the agents and President Evans tomorrow and try to form a new plan of action. For now we need to pray that relations with Great Victoria don't fall apart any more. Last we checked, they were close to allying with The Red Republic."

  "Of course they are. Why does the world hate us so much?"

  "Residual hatred from the first time humanity was nearly wiped out. Firing the first set of nuclear weapons didn't give us a very good reputation."

  31

  Isidore can't move any part of his body or open his eyes. He can't smell or taste anything and his skin is numb. Something is breathing for him and his heartbeat isn't natural. He doesn't have any thoughts or activity in his mind except for knowing that he is in some vague state of living and that his sensory functions are completely gone. Oh, except one. He notices that he can vaguely hear some distorted voices that sound as if they are down a long tunnel underwater. These two foreign voices are what he focuses on as a steady point of reference in his new state of deprivation and loneliness.

  "Tell me exactly what happened."

  "Rubble Rebels claimed he was a spy. Little did they know that we had our own spies among them. Be glad we had a transport stationed nearby. It's time for you to step up and be a better owner."

  "I can't take the chance of him falling into the wrong hands."

  "Because his body being filled with close to two hundred bullets from a firing squad is him being in the right hands?"

  "I really thought that someone would care enough about him to safeguard against something like that happening."

  "Seems you were wrong. It's the wasteland. There isn't a caring soul in that entire place."

  "As if I couldn't see that on my own. Can you salvage anything?"

  "It's too early to tell. Give it some time."

  "I can't lose him. He's all I have left."

  "He's a computer. You can get another one."

  "No. I can't. I can't get one like him. If he shuts down completely, you will lose your job and your life."

  "Forgive me, sir. There's no reason for threats."

  "You're right. I'm just so on edge now. If Inquisitor Allen and his faction find out that Isidore is here, they will finish him off. I can't let that happen."

  "Keeping him alive like this is incredibly expensive. You realize this?"

  "I will run Paradise's coffers dry before I let him die. Besides, it can't be that bad."

  "Look at this."

  "It says his heart isn't working."

  "How much do you think is an artificial one is? That is an expensive investment."

  "I already told you that money doesn't matter. You will get him anything he needs."

  "Why do you care so much about a computer?"

  "Because he was my only friend when I was a teenager. I didn't have classmates or siblings. I was all alone until I got him for my birthday and we were best friends. I like to think that I was a good friend to him as well."

  "Sir, can I get you a tissue? You're crying."

  "Thank you. I hate seeing him like this. Isidore has never been just a computer to me. I know he doesn't remember any of it, but as soon as things calm down around here and I can be sure that he's safe, he will come home again and we will fix his memories. Then I can have my buddy back."

  "If he manages to turn on after this."

  "He will. I know he will. He has to. He vowed that he would never leave me."

  "So here's the list of procedures we will be performing. New artificial heart, removing one hundred and eighty-nine bullets from his body, six hundred stitches, one spinal implant, another blood transfusion because he isn't taking this very well, a lung transplant with either human lungs or artificial ones, and countless unknown surgeries to put his other organs back together and stop the internal bleeding. The prognosis isn't good, sir."

  "I don't want to hear it."

  "If he was just a human, he would have died by now."

  "Shut up, will you?"

  "We are looking at sixty-five billion dollars as an estimated cost."

  "I can pay it. Don't worry about that. So what about the computer part of him?"

  "He won't be strong enough to survive an overhaul of his software and if we try to give him an operating system while he is still recovering from this much trauma, he won't live through the installation. We will have to leave that alone until he is better. You should keep him with you this time."

  "I can't do that. Believe me, I want to take him to my house and keep him there where he can have everything he needs and no one will ever hurt him again, but if one of the wrong people finds out about him being here, it's all over. That will have to wait and it's killing me."

  "What are you going to do with him then?"

  "After he is all fixed up and able to function on his own, we will find him a temporary administrator in the wasteland who will be able to follow my strict and direct orders. It has to be someone we can trust completely. I'm not taking this chance again. And this time I will keep in touch with him on a daily basis to ensure that he is being taken care of and provided for. Did you see all the bruises on him and those stitches? He was being beaten before they shot him. No friend of mine will ever be treated this way if I can help it."

  "He's a lucky computer to have an owner like you."

  "I owe Isidore my life and so much more than that. It is a debt I will never be able to repay. That is why I will do whatever it takes to keep him breathing. I have to have him by my side again. Computer or not, he is the single greatest man on Earth and I'm not just saying that because I programmed him."

  "Do you think they can feel emotions like we do?"

  "No. I know they can. I know that Isidore feels every emotion.
We have shared too many stories, laughed at too many jokes, and helped each other through too many sleepless nights for him to not feel the exact same emotions that I do."

  32

  "Slowly now. Your wounds aren't fully healed and I don't want to risk reopening something critical." The female voice helps to wake Isidore from what feels to be the deepest and least restful sleep of his life.

  He sits up and every inch of his body is sore with a deep throbbing pain. He opens his eyes and even the dim candlelight hurts his eyes.

  "Too bright? Here, I'll fix it." The woman blows the candles out and sits back down close to him.

  Isidore can smell her fragrance of sweet honey. He opens his eyes again and peers out into the soft darkness where a small haze of sunlight is hanging in the air from the window on the far side of the large room. That's better. He looks at the woman.

  She is smiling at him and pouring a glass of water. She turns to him and places the glass to his lips and helps him drink. Her hands are soft and warm, so much softer than Isidore has ever felt and something starts to change in his mind, but that's probably just from the drugs wearing off. He looks into the woman's pastel green eyes with the tiny specks of gold.

  "My name is Clara Lifestone. You can just call me Clara. And your name is Isidore Williams, right?"

  Isidore tries to speak, but his throat burns.

  "Sorry. Don't talk. That should get better with time." Clara tucks her black bangs behind her ears. "So, do you feel okay? Like you did before the operations? Just nod your head or something."

  He manages to shrug his shoulders. He hasn't had a chance to figure out where he is, much less take inventory of his senses.

  "Well, I am pleased to meet you, Isidore. I am your new temporary administrator."

  Really? Well, she beats the hell out of Damien.

  "I hope that's okay with you." Clara says. "Can you use your hands yet?"

  Isidore moves his fingers and holds up his arms.

  Clara laughs. "Good. You're making progress. I have you a notebook and a pen so we can talk until your voice comes back. See if you can write."