by P. S. Power
The words weren't all that promising sounding to Connor. He might not have been great looking, but no one had ever encouraged him to simply use others against their will like that, before. Stab them, shoot them... Even beat or strangle people of all types, certainly. Daily, even. Rape hadn’t been part of his course of studies, for some reason.
Probably because his father, if not a loving man, thought of him as an asset that didn't need to be that broken. Then his powers developed, practically forcing him to be a rapist if he wanted to have sex at all. His mind already shaped in a way that meant he couldn’t really do without, long term. It was a mess. At least if he let himself worry over it.
So he nodded his agreement, not wanting to die just yet. Oddly enough, the idea didn't scare him that much, either. Doc Short hadn’t been wrong about how he was feeling. That part of him was constant, or had been for the last months. Since his abilities had developed. The truth was good, but dismal at times.
"All right. Well, I guess I can throw in with you, for now. If I can't, once I find out what the secret plans and goals are, I can just kill myself and save everyone else the trouble." That made as much sense as anything.
Doc gave him a tiny smile then. It didn't look pleased.
"You really just believe what I'm telling you... Because I can't lie. That actually makes this a lot easier. Most of the time the first indoctrination set is done over the course of two weeks, in a secluded location, to prevent running away. We have some islands used for that. On the good side we can't really have you raped into submission. Or on the bad side. It depends how you take the message, which I'm not supposed to tell you." She stopped talking then, got up and moved away, toward the door to the room. To make it easier not to speak. "Be ready to meet with your father in about an hour. It's late. No one will care about that, so don't bother complaining about being sleepy." Then, as if she hadn't dropped the biggest bomb on his life he'd heard of in the last three months, she walked out.
Connor didn't wait even ten seconds before getting a new outfit from the closet, choosing tan slacks, loafers and a light blue button up shirt. It was the nicest outfit available, after all. Then he showered, so he wouldn't go to the meeting smelling like sex. It wasn't powerful to him, but Connor had always kind of wondered if his sense of smell was as good as everyone else's. Everyone else had always seemed to pick things up before he did that way. Meaning he took extra pains to smell as nicely as possible all the time.
Not offending others with poor hygiene was important.
It meant that he was dressed and fresh when the phone rang. It took him a moment to find the thing, even if it was just setting on a table, along the far wall. Opposite from the television. It was red, had a line that went into the wall and springy cord that kept the hand unit attached to the base. When he picked it up and looked for a way to turn it on, he could hear a voice. One that was speaking his name.
"Connor? Hello? Are you there?" It sounded sort of familiar. Like his father.
Tucking the speaking portion to his face, Connor cleared his throat.
"Sorry there, I had to figure out how to use this thing. It’s different than a cell phone. This is Connor Harriman; how may I help you?" Sure, it sounded like his Dad. The truth was he didn't know the man well enough to be casual with him. Not anymore. Really, he couldn’t recall a time when that had ever been the case.
"This is your Father. I'm in room twenty-seven. Would you be available to meet me in a few minutes? Or in the morning, if that doesn't work for you. I know that you may want a good night's rest, after the trip you just took."
He sort of did, but had been warned already not to be a whiner and taken it to heart. It wasn't a lie, after all. No one there was going to be allowed to care about his being a bit sleepy at the moment.
"I can come over now, if you wish. That... I know it will be in another hallway. I just don't know how the numbers work here yet."
There was a moment of muttering, muffled somehow. When the man spoke again, his words came quickly.
"Take a right at your door, go to the end of the hallway and then head one over to the left again. It's most of the way down from there. See you in... Call it fifteen minutes?"
"I'll try to be there directly. If I get lost... Well, send a search team? Otherwise I’ll probably starve before I find humanity again." He was trying to be funny, but wasn't totally certain it might not be needed.
"Understood." The phone was hung up, so he did the same, noticing the little button on the base that was depressed by the weight of the hand piece. That was efficient, since cutting the line happened instantly on hanging the thing up.
The trip to the other room didn't involve him wandering in a secret underground city all night at all, for some reason. Possibly good directions. It took five minutes, instead of fifteen, even though that was a guess. Connor didn’t own a watch or anything like that. Rather than keep the man waiting, he knocked sharply, attempting to get his attention. Or, more likely, that of a servant.
The door opened without anyone touching it. As if by some kind of automatic process. That or a ghost doing the work. From inside, he heard a strong voice.
"Enter! I'm set up in the front space."
Connor didn’t know what to expect from the room. Something grand or designed with business in mind, since his father was staying there. A thing that was disappointing, when he got all the way inside.
The only real difference to the room from what Connor had was that there was a billionaire in it, where as his room had only been him. At least when he'd last seen it. Otherwise they were nearly identical in footprint and layout. The art on the wall was different, being a seascape in his room and a picture of a farm house, in this one.
His Father, the older man, was still as lean as the last time Connor had seen him, some days before. His suit was a new one, but seemed to be just as nice as before. Tailored to his form, instead of being selected by a computer out of a store room of such things. Most likely a piece of clothing that had managed to travel with the man from his home, if not stored at the facility in case he needed to travel there.
The man smiled at him, pretending not to be nervous. That ended when Connor moved closer to him, waiting to be asked to take a seat. He was about fifteen feet away, when his Dad started speaking. There was no real hesitation to the words. No attempt to hedge either.
"The Sisyphean Order was established almost a thousand years ago. The goal was, and still is, to save the world. From itself, if that's needed. Which in the last hundred years it truly has been." He stopped, looking at Connor for a hint of doubt. Or, just as likely, waiting for a question to come.
Something like, Sisyphean who now? It was tempting to go for that one, though being funny wasn’t the best idea, when it came to others belief systems or life’s work.
Instead he simply nodded. Somberly.
"That sounds more promising than I thought it would, to tell the truth. Saving the world as a goal. I’d kind of figured it was all about taking over just to be in power." He'd moved about ten feet from the other man, but didn't take the nearest chair.
Stephen nodded at the words, but didn't smile.
"Except that we're dealing with climate change, overpopulation, a high risk of uncontrolled biological or chemical warfare being used indiscriminately by fools that care for nothing more than for lining their pockets with a few more bills that they'll never spend… Which is your point. I know how tempting that can be, having been one of them, early on in my life. Even after I joined the Order. We still have some of that sort in our ranks. We aren't by any means perfect as a group. Still, the hard work of killing most of the population has to be done and we're very close to being the best people for the job, right now."
Connor could have acted as if that were a big problem for him. The truth was, the idea of killing people he didn't know and who he'd never meet in the normal course of things didn't really do anything to him at all. Some of what had been said got him thinking though.
"I see... So, we need to use something like a controllable bio-agent? One that won't be as easy to deal with as what we were hit with the other day. Ebola-pox, wasn't it? At the same time, we're going to need a distraction. A wide spread war... Or, I don't know, global financial collapse? Maybe both at one time. The trick there will be keeping things under control so that a nuclear war doesn't start. Not if you want the ecology of the planet to survive." It all seemed like common sense to him. Possibly a little too cute and unknowledgeable about the topic at hand, really.
Rather than deride his ignorance, his father sat up in his chair.
"That is... Very close to the thoughts of about half the high council. The rest are hoping to use slow poisons introduced through plastics and cell phone usage. I'm honestly on the fence, myself. The method you suggest would be faster. The other way is easier to manage. There are risks to both, with the slower one being the lesser of the two evils. In the end we still need to kill most of humanity. Some will try to tell you that the goal is only ninety percent. That… probably isn't the truth. The inner circle speaks of five percent and my sources tell me that the highest in all the various societies are actually looking to kill us all. To remove humanity, from the world in order to protect the planet itself. The life on it, anyway."
He seemed a bit wry about that last portion of things. There was an explanation at least.
"Our order, if you choose to join it, is a bit less religious than some of the others. Moloch worship, versions of Luciferianism, The Latter Day Saints, of course as well as the Deep Catholics. They all have a hand in similar pies at the moment. We should, naturally, all work together. That tends not to work for very long. We might all have to die, but the truth is that everyone wants to be in control until they do. I know that I do, if I get a choice."
That made sense to Connor at least.
"Hmm. I'm in, then. On taking out most of the people. Possibly all of us, if that’s what’s really needed. Where do we start? I heard some good things about monkey pox, the other day. Doctor Short has some ready to go in her lab, even… Would it be possible to..." He stopped for a minute, trying to recall what he'd been taught in his civics classes. It was decently complete, though reading up on things would make sense, if they were going to try to destroy most of the people of the world as quickly as possible. "We could stage attacks by Islamic people on a major event? Or... you know, what if we did a series of smaller, but undeniable attacks. Hit Christian churches directly. Suicide bombers. Regular bombs. Drone strikes? Snipers... The trick is in framing the right people for it, of course. Building a real trail to them that anyone can find, after the attacks. We could feed Tim and Denise the information on that, which should help their careers. I mean, there’s no reason not to, since we’re blackmailing them anyway."
The truth was he didn’t know enough about that kind of thing to really make suggestions. Before he could admit to that, his father blinked, several times, then nodded. His face was serious seeming.
"Go on." There was a wave that went with it.
"Hmm. Well, if we could use that to start another gulf war, then hit... Either India or China, with a deadly plague or virus. Something that we spread with hundreds of initial vectors. Figure that half of them will be caught, so we need to spread things in poor sections of those countries. India, first. They have a massive population and poor sanitation practices, along with being neighbors with Pakistan, making the sub-continent the most densely populated area on the planet right now."
The kid waved, and shook his head. Still standing, which meant he felt slightly awkward. Like he was giving a speech in school.
"Not that I have the facts for this. Saying, send in a bunch of plague, is a lot different than actually doing it. Clearly, or it would already have been accomplished. Ten people and a few plane trips would get it done, or should."
The words got a nod.
"True. And we have tried, many, many times. Not just us, but most of the groups doing similar work. Everything from what you've just suggested, to killing key figures along the time stream, to opening portals to hell to accomplish the grand working." He stopped then and shrugged, chuckling a little at the end. "Oh, by the way... We have time travel, if of a limited sort and magic is real. Genetic super soldiers, mind control programs… Everything, really. I mean, humanity has all of those things. We, the Order, has control of a few of them. We don’t do much with magic, since it really isn’t all that powerful. It works and is real, if you have contact with the right entities, but on a large scale it isn’t all that impressive. Half, or more, of why everyone keeps failing is that there seems to be a rogue group out there fighting against us. We haven't been able to find them yet though. My guess is that they're using time travel to undo everything. It has that feel about it. Only, that alone isn’t enough. You still have to be able to get things done, even if you get multiple chances at it. Plus, time travel has some hard limits on it. It’s messy and not exacting at all."
Connor looked behind himself and then nodded.
"May I sit?" The chair was empty, but there may be a reason for him to be kept standing there, nervously. Not that he was feeling that any longer. The new information was nothing less than fascinating, now that he heard it.
Even if they all ended up dying, to save the planet. He had to figure that his life probably wouldn't be worth saving, no matter who won in the end. No one would want to live with a person like him around. Telling the truth without end or control. It made things simpler, for him. For instance, he knew that he only had two choices in what was being spoken of at the moment. He could die right then, or join and die later. Since the goal seemed good enough, saving the world, that choice was fairly easy to make.
There was a wave at a soft, leather covered, chair, which was about seven feet from where his father sat.
The older man squinted, which showed on his face rather starkly.
"Most people act shocked when they hear that they're supposed to help us kill most of the people in the world. We don't tell them that they'll probably be among the dead, either. I just told you both and you seem, more or less fine with that." No questions came, even though people under his influence could ask them.
As long as they were honest questions, to the person doing the asking.
He closed one eye, the left one, screwing his face up a bit on that side. Thinking.
"Doctor Short mentioned to me that failing to go along with the Order would end in my death. Also, she didn’t mention that the goal was that good. I mean, clearly evil, since a lot of people will die from the actions we take. If I do that, destroy that many lives, I can't expect to live. Either the people that survive will kill me, or those on our side will. The truth is useful, but so is lying in the right circumstances. I can't expect to take away others’ power and not suffer for it, in the end. Really, no one that murders most of humanity should be allowed to survive doing it. There has to be a cost to saving what we can that way."
It was a dismal thought, though after a few moments his Father simply nodded.
"Enlightened. On the good side, we'll both probably pass of old age first. Like I said, the Order was formed a thousand years ago. Slightly longer than that. Not that we aren't duty bound to try our best. You say Doctor Short warned you? She wasn’t supposed to do that." He seemed a bit put out by that news.
Which didn’t make sense at all.
"After we had sex. Or, you know, I had sex with her. She gave me permission first, so it wasn't rape. Just a bit like that, from every other angle. Then, after she showered, she came back into the room and got too close to me. It isn't as if she could have lied, so... Well, she managed not to tell me about the Order at all. Just that I join or not and that the last option wasn't allowed." He shrugged. It was close enough to the truth, though he kind of figured the woman had planned out her speech first, before even coming to see him.
After blinking a few times, his Father laughed. It sounded real enough.
"You do know
she's a bit older than she looks, don't you?"
That had come up, so he nodded, smiling this time.
"About a hundred and fifty years isn’t it? That was a strange story. Immortality is a super power, after a fashion.” Glancing at the door, Connor shrugged. "Do you have anything like that going on? You mentioned that Mom had a power that was a bit like mine?"
There was a slow nod that kept going for about five seconds, before the words came out. As if he was fighting the answer.
"Low level telekinesis and precognition for myself. Enough that I was able to locate the next attack coming in after the first one blindsided me the other day. Then, big explosions are much easier to understand than a stressful mist in the air coming from a drone. I can move about twenty pounds, up to a hundred feet from my body. It's just a thing that I was born with. Now, Mindy, your mother... She was genetically engineered by her father, Doug Clark. Brilliant man. Also, totally insane and wrapped up in the Jason Society so tightly that he can’t pass gas without one of their alarms going off. They have the best technology out of all the factions. At least that we know about." The man looked away for a minute, as if thinking.
Words came out, after a while.
Which meant he'd been fighting what he was about to say.
"Mindy was sent into the Order as a spy. I've never been sure that our people weren't the ones that killed her. To be fair, I never bothered to ask. I was about to have her killed anyway, by the time she died. No more than half a year away from that. She, when they sent the team in to kill her, they almost lost. Ten armed, brainwashed super soldiers, against her. Dressed in a nightgown, with only a weapon that she'd taken from one of them to fight with. She could spread a field that put anyone within fifty feet of her to sleep. They didn't recall anything afterwards, either, much like those you affect at close range. Unlike you, she could touch people when she wasn't actively trying to use her powers." He sighed then and shook his head.
