Intended Extinction

by Hanks, Greg

  That sounded more like one of GenoTec’s Volunteer commercials than encouragement. Still, she piqued my interest. I looked down at the concrete steps, thinking about my own life. Back at my apartment, I was waking up to nothing, every single day. There had been no one in my life. There was nothing but blood and pain.

  “Do you really think we can do this?” asked Tara.

  “I’ve seen what you can do,” Celia replied. “And with Simone, anyone can do this. It’s not like you’d be spending six years here. We’re really almost finished . . . I hope.”

  The technology hummed in the background as we stood thinking.

  “We’ll be renegades, though,” countered Tara.

  Then Celia smiled. She shifted her eyes between the three of us and said, “Is that such a bad thing?”

  31

  Renegades.

  But not the kind with malicious desires and dismissive attitudes toward authority. The renegades I was referring to are the ones with powerful, redeeming surges of emotion linked to every single one of their actions. The ones who would stop at nothing to bring simplistic and cleansing truth to everyone in the world. The ones who started as nothing, crawling on their own blood-soaked floors, but became bastions of courage, wisdom, and most of all, surety.

  I could also be somewhat dramatic about all of that.

  Nevertheless, the prospect of becoming renegades had a certain coolness factor that I couldn’t deny. The prospect of dying had a factor, too. And it wasn’t cool.

  We never really made a decision to stay in the Underbed. It sort of just happened. There was never a defining moment where I could call myself a Genesis “member.” The days just started to creep by. Each morning brought more intrigue. I grew more confident in my abilities. I understood more about GenoTec then I probably wanted to know. And it was all coming together into one steaming pot of acceptance.

  I was never happy with my surroundings, though. Never once would I call this place “home.” Because even though I never told myself that I was officially staying, I knew what was coming. Something terrifying loitered in the back of my mind. I didn’t want to face the fear, but I knew that someday I would have to kill again.

  Amidst the confusion, the trepidation, and the denial, I did have one motivating thought—which wasn’t common. I was better off doing something worthwhile—no matter how insane—than being stuck in my ratty apartment, coughing until I died in my own pool of blood.

  The interface screen read 2:06 am when I opened my eyes. It was quiet, except for the occasional ticking sound from the Underbed’s ventilation system. I sat up, stretched, put on a shirt, and donned a pair of slippers.

  I padded quietly past the other rooms, careful to remain undetected. I moved like a preying cat through the rest of Quarter and pressed on to Central.

  Central was pitch black, except for the single beam of light showering the center pedestal. The servers were purring, and Celia was thankfully in bed. I moved across the floor and looked around one last time before plopping myself onto one of her chairs.

  I had never been this close to her station before. It was cluttered with all sorts of minutia, which made it harder to maintain silence. I was constantly bumping into things, trying to figure out how to activate her console. Even when there was no way anyone could hear me, I was still sweating.

  In a stroke of luck, I found a small indent on the side of her 30-inch, see-through monitor. As my finger hovered over it, the display illuminated, almost knocking me off the chair. It took no time to boot up, instantly depicting a column of squares I could click. They were each uniquely titled: “Genesis Files”, “GenoTec Files”, “Old Files”, “Research”, “Codes”, and “Edge Research.” I used her antique mouse to hover over a few of the choices. I looked over my shoulder again, then clicked “Old Files.”

  The screen opened to a new window, displaying more squares to pick from. Her organization was impeccable. I scrolled through the huge list of things until something caught my eye.

  “Deceased Members,” I said under my breath.

  Drooling for answers, and lusting with curiosity, I clicked the square.

  A new window popped up, but this time a portrait of an African-American man covered most of the screen. I furrowed my brow and noticed I could scroll down. A bunch of text and highlighted links followed the picture, all about the man named Trine.

  Before I could read anymore, a voice from behind almost sent me flying.

  “Can’t sleep, huh?”

  Bollis was standing at the base of the small set of stairs, staring me down with folded arms and a pensive look.

  I honestly didn’t know what to say, so I awkwardly froze. It was the first time I had felt guilty before Bollis. It was also a new experience seeing him in normal clothes. He was wearing a fitted, gray t-shirt, with a pair of dark blue sweatpants.

  “I know why you’re here,” he said, stepping up to my level. “And it’s my fault.”

  “Look, I—”

  “I should have told you guys before, but I . . . I guess I was afraid of what your reactions would be.”

  I let him continue. He sat across from me in another plush, swivel chair.

  “The other two members,” he said, “that’s what you want to know about, isn’t it?”

  Once I knew I was in the clear, I nodded and said, “This is one of them?” I looked at the interface screen. “Trine?”

  “Yes. Trine was the first member of Genesis. He was an incredible asset.” It seemed as if Trine had meant something to Bollis. I could see a longing in his eyes.

  “What happened to him?”

  Bollis sat back in his chair and exhaled. “Just after Edge became global, Genesis consisted of Vane, Trine, Celia, and one other member, a man called Gear. In Genesis’ fourth year, Gear betrayed them and went to GenoTec, to reveal everything Genesis had worked for. He killed Trine in the process. After that, Genesis disbanded for a few years.”

  I pondered the story for a moment. “GenoTec didn’t find the rest of them? Celia? Vane?”

  “I’m not sure how, but GenoTec never found out. Gear never returned. Vane tried to recruit Vexin during the separation, but didn’t get him until Dodge and I joined—oh, three years ago.”

  “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to tell us this?”

  He sighed. “Trine died. Gear betrayed Genesis. I didn’t want to scare you off. It was stupid of me.”

  “Well,” I said, “it’s not the most comforting news. But, it was pretty obvious, Bollis.”

  “I know,” he said, nodding. “I’m just glad you guys decided to stick around. We can finally move forward.”

  “We didn’t exactly have a choice, did we?”

  “I’m truly sorry. None of us wanted this. GenoTec has a way of forcing situations on people.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Was it easy for you?” I played with my hands. “Joining?”

  He scoffed. “My situation was a bit different. I was a Marine. I was used to combat. When the military disbanded, I had nothing to do with my life. Dodge and I were lucky enough to have Vane find us, or else we would have gone insane.”

  “But going up against GenoTec?”

  He inhaled, pondering. “We had our concerns. But Dodge and I were already digging up some things when he found us. It just . . . felt right. I don’t know. I guess I’m not much help, am I?”

  “No. No you’re not,” I said.

  He smirked. It was quiet for a moment. “When I was a Marine, there was one thing that always saved my life when I was in the field. I learned to let the fear take me. Let it fill your entire body. Let it rip your insides out. Let it run its course. Then you act. You use it to guide your actions.”

  I wallowed in his advice. There was a lot of fear to go around, that’s for sure.

  He got to his feet, preparing to leave. “I know you’re scared. We all are. But we’re the only ones left, Mark. For the sake
of this planet’s future, we need to do this. It’s screwed up, but I’m done trying to pity myself. I’m done wondering what could have been. I’ve just let it take me.”

  He sighed, wondering if he had done any good. I contemplated his words. As much as I hated thinking about the future, his advice was comforting. I didn’t feel so anxious or dry-throated.

  “Hey,” I asked. “You mentioned Trine as if you knew him. Did you?”

  He paused for a second, and then looked at the screen again.

  “I never met him, no,” he said, sounding introspective, “but I’ve seen and read everything about him. I know how he fought, how he moved, how he breathed. I studied him, because he was a hero. He saved Celia and Vane from Gear, on top of being an incredible soldier.”

  “What made him so different?” I asked.

  “He was recruited from the streets. Just like you.”

  32

  11 DAYS AGO

  The swift exchange of bullets in the barrel; the clink of the casing as it hit the ground. Those were starting to become my two favorite sounds. Two holes pierced my target’s chest, and I was satisfied. Everything that had previously been in slow motion was starting to turn into real time. I was getting used to it, and I was good. The lifeless body fell to the cold concrete with a gut-wrenching thud.

  I hopped the small barrier to my left and hid behind the next pillar. Two more soldiers. I could hear the small echo of their metal boots on the floor, and that's all I needed. I revealed myself and quickly connected the dots; two thuds this time.

  The next obstacle was easy; I had done it many times. I moved down the corridor with wings at my feet and squatted at the next checkpoint. There was a small package on the floor next to me. I carefully picked it up, feeling the rectangle edges and the small transponder in the middle. I holstered my weapon, but before leaping over the barrier, my vision blurred for a second, and the room became overexposed. I focused, embarrassed that I had let my own thoughts invade. As I calmed my mind, the room slowly turned back into the deadly, foul smelling concrete facility.

  I jumped the barrier and continued to my destination. I was in the firing range, moving from one pillar to the next, avoiding enemy detection. I maneuvered with great ease and no hesitation. I finally reached the position at the end of the room and planted the package on the pedestal.

  Two beeps later I was on my way back—double time. I jumped the final barrier and put my back to the nearest column. I waited for the beautiful sound in my ears; only a couple more seconds.

  The ground shook and the explosion was successful.

  “A new record,” said a reverberating voice that shook the facility.

  I closed my eyes and I felt my surroundings fall into nothingness beside me. I was pulled downward, into a murky swamp. Then, in a glorious breakthrough, like a dolphin jumping above the ocean surface, I emerged from my subconscious.

  I was back.

  The Underbed’s familiar salty atmosphere welcomed me with warm arms. I unbelted myself from the chair and massaged the bruise on my left arm. I was having trouble with Trial 2 of Sphere 6, which was getting me more beat up than sparring sessions with Bollis. I stood up, entered some data into Simone’s mainframe, and observed my record.

  “No way,” I said to myself as the new results registered.

  Simone’s database was categorized by the different nanomachines injected into the body. There were ten sections called “Spheres”, each holding twenty to thirty unique scenarios called “Trials.” Even though there were already pre-set scenarios, the nanomachines could be manipulated, theoretically allowing an unlimited amount of Trials to be created.

  Each session was recorded into the mainframe and statistics could be viewed afterward. I was looking at my overall time for Trial 4, Sphere 6, grinning ear to ear. I had beaten Dodge’s record, which had previously been the highest. After relishing in the moment, I took a second to contemplate how far I had actually come in just one month’s time. The results were astoundingly positive.

  “Should I inform Dodge of the recent broken record?” asked Aiya.

  “No,” I said, smiling, “let me break the news.”

  Aiya announced that it was six o’ clock in the evening as I exited The Break. I had been induced for a little over three hours. It was starting to get easier, managing Simone’s serum. I recalled the first time being injected with those nanomachines. I hadn’t been able tell the difference between reality and hallucination, so for an entire hour I was a hysterical mess in front of everyone.

  At least I didn’t throw up all over Vexin, I thought, remembering Tara’s first time.

  I made my way across Central’s cold, glossy floor toward Celia. She was of course working on some project of hers. I popped open a pouch of Urimene, a liquid substance that helped me stabilize after a session with Simone, and nonchalantly approached her. If I managed to keep her talking for more than five minutes, it was a miracle.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced jokingly, between swigs of my Urimene, “your newest Simone champion!”

  “Uh . . . hold on,” she droned, putting a finger up to me.

  “Really?” I said, somberly sitting on the chair adjacent to her. “I’m running out of material here, Celia.”

  Ever since Celia had given us such inspiring advice, she and I had held somewhat of a close bond. I felt it was my duty to lighten the mood around her, in substitute of Dodge. If I didn’t pull her mind away from that computer of hers for a minute or two, she would probably go insane. Before, I was just intimidated, but now we were comfortable around one another. We were friends.

  I knew to keep my distance, though. Dodge and Celia were more or less involved with each other and I didn’t want him breathing down my neck. Although that would never happen in a million years. We left the anger to Vexin.

  She finished typing with a flourish and swiveled around to see me.

  “You know,” she began, “if you didn’t come here interrupting me so often, we might actually be getting somewhere with these codes.”

  “Hey, did you not hear me?” I said, spreading my wingspan. “The newest Simone champion!”

  She gave me the “very funny” look, and retaliated with, “Of one Trial, right? Out of how many?”

  I smiled; I had at least loosened her up.

  “Good one,” I said, rolling beside her to see what she was working on. My tone turned serious.

  “Still haven’t cracked this one, huh?”

  She sighed, leaning back and stretching. “No. Bollis and I have been at it all morning. I have this hunch that instead of ratting us out, Gear just hyper-encrypted GenoTec’s security detail. That, or I just need a hot bath to clear my head.”

  “Well,” I said, getting to my feet, “don’t lose your mind over it. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

  She refocused and said, “You go ahead. I’ve got one more hour in me.” Immediately, she resumed.

  Quarter smelled superb. I picked out a tangy orange sauce and some kind of garlic spice amongst the aroma. Coming to dinner nowadays was almost always some sort of adventure. A few weeks ago, I had become bored with the same old MetaChews, powdered liquids, and freeze-dried substances. So, to combat my boredom, I started experimenting. Apparently, I had started a trend, because it was now a game to see who could come up with the best concoction.

  Sitting in the dining section was Bollis, sipping a glass of milk, Dodge, who, to my surprise, was doing a crossword—with a furrowed brow—and Justin, who was trying to help Dodge with the puzzle. Tara was the one doing the cooking, standing near the stove next to opened packets of chocolate powder, freeze-dried potatoes, and two MetaChew containers.

  “Dodge! What’s that you’ve got?” I teased as I took a place at the table across from Justin. I was hungry, but I wanted to see what Tara was cooking before I made my new recipe. She turned to see me and smiled.

  “Yeah, yeah, I gave in,” he smirked, erasing a faulty answer.

&nbs
p; “Ah, so after all the time spent mocking me and Bollis, here you are,” I said, dragging out his guilt. Bollis and Justin were eyeing me and laughing here and there.

  “Don’t be too hard on him,” said Bollis, “he had a rough dinner.”

  I gobbled up the unfortunate event.

  “Really?” I said, smiling. “What was it this time, ketchup and ice cream?”

  Justin answered for Dodge. “No, dude. Eggs, chicken broth, and coffee powder.” The boy snickered and Dodge acknowledged his creation like a true man.

  “It’ll probably be better than what ‘Chef’ is cookin’ over there,” he joked, motioning to Tara, who just shook her head. He then gasped and said, “That’s it! That one’s ‘chef!’ Of course.” He nudged Justin with acclaim and quickly wrote in his answer.

  “How was Simone?” asked Bollis, turning to me.

  “I thought you’d never ask!” I exclaimed, looking right at Dodge.

  We got a good laugh out of the new record. Dodge and I had a great relationship, and it was probably the one thing that was keeping me sane down there. After berating him for a few minutes, Bollis and I struck up a conversation about my training.

  Bollis. He was always good at giving advice for my holdups. He was so articulate and thoughtful. He wouldn’t make me feel like I was doing it all wrong, or that I needed his help. It was more of a gentle elbow in the right direction, all the while making meaningful dialogue. It was amazing how close we had all gotten in just a month.

  Well, most of us. I glanced at Tara again.

  After I roused my heap to get my own dinner going, Bollis was in the midst of dishing some news about what was going on in the outside world. He held a rectangular tablet, connected to the Internet through the Underbed’s extensive network. I didn’t even want to understand Celia when she told us how it all worked, what with being underwater.