Darwin's Paradox

by Nina Munteanu

  The thrill of adrenaline pulsed through him as Daniel rose on to his elbows from his reclining position on the cot. Were they talking about Julie?! Just as he’d feared, she’d ended up in the Pol Station, presumably where Angel was. Was Julie slated for execution for her supposed murder of the previous Head Pol?

  And who was the Dick? People used to nickname the place that Julie worked, the Department of Information Control, DIC, “the Dick”. But this “Dick” was a person, the leader of the Vee-radicators. Could they mean Dykstra, the same man who ran the Secret Pols twelve years ago? Now running the most violent right-wing radicals in Icaria? It made sense. Like the Dystopians before them, Vee-radicators passionately hated technology and veemelds, its vehicle. Daniel stretched his neck up to speak as the spark of a plan formed in his mind. “Do you mean John Dykstra?”

  Jake and Washington both looked his way, frowned at him, then Jake turned back to Washington and continued, “We can get a party together in two hours, Wash. Someone screwed up the A.I. system and it’s chaos out there. They’ve closed down half the city, trying to deal with the confusion.”

  “Good.” Washington looked up from the steaming beverage he was brewing on the old stove in the room. “We couldn’t have asked for a better diversion,” he grinned, showing yellow teeth between fleshy flaps for a mouth. “The Pols will be too busy with those freaking machines they depend on to deal with us. Bet the Dick’s responsible for that somehow.”

  “John Dykstra? I know him,” Daniel lied, hoping for a response this time.

  Washington glared at him. “The son, you idiot. John Dykstra’s dead. Died in the Pol Station—where the former mayor threw all the Secret Pols long ago thanks to that bitch, your wife.” Then his eyes narrowed briefly. “Sure you knew him,” he said doubtfully.

  Daniel sat up from the cot and frowned at the acrid smell of burnt clone-coffee to hide his excitement. For the first time since he’d awoken in this sewer hole, he felt a twinge of hope. If they were talking about Julie then he now knew where she was and a reckless plan for her rescue began to form in his mind. It was obvious that Dykstra’s son also worked in the Pol Station how else would he know where Julie was being kept? And it was equally obvious that no one knew of his affiliations with the Vee-radicators. That information was worth something. Perhaps his wife’s life.

  He just needed to escape. Daniel felt much better, particularly since Washington had given him some mitigin pills. During the few times he’d moved about to use the washroom or help himself to some of that vile coffee, he was still a little short of breath and felt a twinge of pain when he over-exerted himself or stretched too far in any direction. But his strength and his balance had returned.

  He’d spent a fair bit of time scoping out the room. It was a dirty one-room apartment. Judging from its design, he was likely in the fringe zone between the inner and outer-cities. Inhabited mostly by outer-city exiles who’d lost all their privilege levels. If he could just get past that door, he could scoot down the hallway to a stairwell and out into the crowd—lose these losers. Then he could warn the present government about Dykstra and his nasty affiliations. Perhaps it would gain him access to Julie and ultimately a way out of this crazy world...

  “Is our patient ready to go on a hunt?” Jake asked Washington with a curt glance at Daniel.

  “Sure,” Washington said, wincing as he sipped the atrocious brew. “He’s pretty spry now. What about our prize?”

  It was Julie. He was certain. What did the Vee-radicators want her for? Probably just to kill her.

  “She’s always ready, I hear,” Jake sniggered, helping himself to the clone-coffee and turning his back to Daniel. “The Dick said she’s the Head Pol’s kitten now.” He chortled. “They used to be lovers, eh? I hear that Langor makes her spit and hiss then purr.”

  Daniel stiffened in mid-creep to the door. Langor was still alive? Was he the Head Pol? And Julie was with him? The thought was too much to bear. He pushed it away and lunged for the door. Jake turned. Daniel pulled the door open and sprang out—

  Something hit him hard in the chest and he tumbled to the floor. The pain cut through him like knives carving him to pieces and he blacked out for a moment, vaguely aware that he was screaming and his whole body was madly shaking.

  “You asshole!” It was Washington. He pounced on Daniel and hauled him back in and threw him toward the cot. Daniel staggered, then sprawled on the floor, gasping as hot waves of pain surged through him. He clawed at the bed and drew himself onto it, curling up as the air rasped through him. He abruptly leaned over and coughed out a stream of rank fluid that burned his throat.

  “Hey!” Washington slapped Daniel hard on the head. “I just swept in here!”

  “S’pose you set it too high, huh?” Jake responded with a half-sneer.

  Washington glanced down at himself and looked up with bulging eyes. “Shit, that was the lowest setting!”

  Daniel wiped his mouth with the back of his trembling hand and swallowed several times to get rid of the sour taste in his mouth.

  Washington leaned over Daniel with a lipless smirk.

  “Listen, veemeld-lover,” he snarled. “You don’t get it, do you? Let me spell it out...Jake didn’t just sew you up when you burned yourself with my gun. He put in a little device.” His face tangled into a sinewy mess that Daniel had come to realize was a smile. “A little nano-pulser. Ready to send out anything from a pulse shock to a full blown blast that’ll smoke you as soon as I press the button on the set he’s sewn into me. What you just felt now was the lowest setting. Get it?”

  Daniel kept his gaze on Washington, though he wanted to look away. Shivering, he said in a throaty whisper, “What is it you want me to do?”

  “Well, she is your wife. So we figured you could get us close to her then convince her to come along with us. If you don’t, we simply kill the little vixen. If you run away or try to help her escape or do anything stupid we kill you. Got it, lover boy?”

  Daniel swallowed hard as a new wave of pain washed over him. “I won’t betray my wife,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “I won’t lure her to her death. You might as well kill me now.”

  Washington barked a laugh. “Brave little lover boy,” he scoffed. “We’d rather have her alive, idiot. The Dick wants her to do some tampering for us of a special kind—A.I. tampering. Maybe she can undo some of the crap her kind have done over the years, an appeasement, so to speak. We hear she’s the best when it comes to A.I.s. Of course, it’s up to you to make her cooperate because if she doesn’t...” he let the rest trail into silence. Then with a grunt, he continued, “After that, it’s up to the Dick to decide what to do with the two of you, so, if I were you, I’d sooner take my chances and your wife’s with him than with me, lover. ‘Cause I’m heading out there with or without you.” A malicious grin slid across his face like an oil slick and Daniel felt a sickening dread. The man wouldn’t hesitate, in fact he’d delight in killing her.

  The device in his belly would complicate things, Daniel thought grimly, even as the thrill of a new mad plan coursed through him like current through a live wire. They were going to take him right to her. Perhaps he still had a chance to save her, by disclosing to her Dykstra’s betrayal even if it meant getting smoked by Washington in retaliation. He nodded. “All right,” he said grimly. “I’ll help you.”

  32

  A terrible moan woke Julie, triggering a raging headache. Her head felt like it was trying to have a baby, the pain convulsing in waves that curdled her stomach. After a moment she realized that she was the one moaning.

  She was lying face down and pressed against something soft—a flat, under-stuffed pillow. With great effort she raised her head, sending another stab of pain through her. Her vision slowly cleared and she was able to see that she was lying on top of a narrow bed in a stark, windowless room. The room was empty save for the bed, a nightstand and an unl
it table lamp. The room was lit by an awful amber light shining fitfully from the ceiling above, reminding her of the inner-city malls. She hadn’t descended quite as far as the lower level dungeons but she’d definitely come down a few floors, she concluded. This was a far cry from the opulent suite she’d flung herself out of.

  Apart from the throbbing headache, she felt stiff and a few localized aches suggested to her that whoever had brought her here might have dragged her and dropped her a few times. Her jaw throbbed where Tyers’ fist had connected, but she was able to move it from side to side. It hurt like hell, but she was relieved that it moved the way it should.

  She had to get out of there, find Burke again, but she was exhausted. So exhausted that her eyes stung and she could barely keep them open. So exhausted that she felt sick. Or was that something else? Had they drugged her? Perhaps it was just the pain pulsing in her temples and swollen her jaw. She forced her eyes to roam the room and spotted two undisguised spy cameras.

  Sleep. I need some sleep now, she thought. Tomorrow I’ll get out of here.

  She dragged herself over to the light switch by the door and slapped it off—no one was going to get his kicks watching her undress. She stripped in the dark and slid under the blanket and sheets and let out a long sigh. She lay there for some time with her eyes closed. Exhausted as she was, too many images raced through her brain. Victor Burke wasn’t what she’d imagined at all. He was disappointingly incapable, with fearful, darting eyes. And the way he spoke: haltingly, gulping in air as though he was always running out of breath. Was that scrawny timid man really the key to fixing Icaria’s problems? He seemed more suited to reclusive sedentary pursuits than dealing with people and commanding an entire city. Was she chasing yet another dream?

  She turned on her side and imagined Daniel lying facing her, his hand tucked deliciously between her thighs, sending a resonating message of deep love with his exquisitely sensitive, sensual touch—a message that traveled up the core of her soul as she wrapped herself around it. Her breaths hitched and her own arm slithered down, trying to quiet her longing for the warm comfort of his touch, trying to quell her fears of never seeing him again.

  Somewhere between her longing and her fears, she fell asleep with her body curled in a fetal position and arms tucked between her legs.

  ***

  She drags her feet slowly through the dark and wrinkled organic halls of what used to be SAM’s smooth crystal matrix. The warm stench burns her throat and lungs with each inhalation, filling her body with pain and her soul with a foreboding that she cannot shake. The dark figure, hunched and shriveled, beckons her with a sweeping arc of its arm. Good Earth, please don’t let it be me again, she thinks. Leave me alone! she yells at the dark figure she knows is Proteus.

  [It is time to join us. You must do this, Julie Crane. You hold back too much of yourself. Let go of your fears. Let go. Do not be afraid. You will not fall. We will catch you.]

  Like chaos you will! You’ll just take over my brain for your own purpose. What do you want with me? What would you turn me into?

  [You are suspicious and stubborn, Julie Crane.]

  I’ve been called worse.

  [Your entire species is this way. Isolated and disconnected and you more than most. This is why we are doing this. Why you need to join. We will care for you and give you direction.]

  That’s what worries me. That’s why I can’t do this ‘joining thing’ with you.

  [Then sadly, you leave us no choice, Julie Crane, but to take a new host for our great journey. She, who is more open to us. More pliable.]

  Her heart thunders. Who?

  The cowl drops from the figure’s head, revealing Angel’s face, strangely wizened with unnatural years. Julie’s knees give out from under her and she crumbles to the slimy ground.

  [Join with us, Mom], the harmonic voices of Proteus sing out of Angel’s mouth.

  No! Julie wails. Don’t do this, Proteus! Leave her alone! Julie screams, as Angel recedes into the living walls. She throws out her arm to grab Angel but the gooey floor restrains her. Angel, come back! Don’t go with them! Oh—

  She jerked awake with the end of a moan on her lips and her body convulsed as the vision of Angel’s distorted face lingered in the dark room, burned onto her retinas. A wave of nausea washed over her and she gagged, then coughed on the small amount of bile that surged up. A few moments passed while she struggled to remember where she was and figure out why she’d woken up. Then she noticed that the door was open and the silhouette of a man stood there. She flinched—that stance, that figure, were unmistakable. Frank.

  He entered and shut the door, plunging her into darkness again. She raised herself on her elbows, keenly aware that she was unclothed as well. After quickly sweeping her plastered hair from her forehead, she demanded in a sharp voice to hide her anxiety, “How long have you been standing there and what in chaos do you think you’re doing in here?”

  “I heard you screaming so I came in to check on you. Another nightmare, huh?” His voice sounded strange, as if strangled with muddy thoughts. Was he drunk on drug?

  “You came to check on me...naked?” she bit out sardonically.

  “That’s how I sleep.” She heard the sneer in his voice. “Gosh, that was the worst one you’ve had yet—”

  “Are you in the habit of spying on sleeping women?”

  “Just one,” he added in a softer voice. “I could soothe you...”

  “I don’t need any soothing, thanks.” She heard the bite in her voice and swallowed down the bile surging up her throat. She hadn’t gotten over the horrible dream and felt his intrusion acutely. He was the last person she wanted to see. “You can leave now. I’m alright,” she lied.

  “I better check.” His voice was so close and she felt his warm breath on her face. It stank like bog water. “You knew I was coming,” he whispered hoarsely, “That’s why you didn’t put anything on.” A hand slid under the sheets and he touched her breast with a trembling hand. She could hear him sucking in halting breaths of rising passion.

  She squirmed away, heart slamming. He returned by stroking her abdomen. Her fist jerked up and struck his face. He stumbled back with a startled grunt and fell with a thud on his rump. She leaped out of bed and, sidestepping him, dashed across the room. She was almost to the door when his flying tackle caught her by the feet and brought her down. Her face collided painfully into the door and she saw stars as the rest of her crashed to the floor with a hard jolt. He clamored roughly on top of her, crushing her with his full weight and pushing her face to the floor.

  “Get off, you bastard!” she shrieked with anger, sucking in her breaths with difficulty.

  “What? No gun this time?” he snarled, bringing up that disastrous quarrel twelve years ago. “How’re you going to stop me this time?” He seized her hair and yanked her head up so they were cheek-to-cheek. “You always wanted to go to my place before,” he hissed in her ear. “Well, now you’re in it. Might as well enjoy the ride.” Then he pushed her face against the floor.

  “Yeah, but we’re still on the floor, you pig!” she cried in a muffled voice.

  “Pig, dog, human...I can’t help what I’ve become...thanks to you,” he growled, his putrid breaths blowing down her neck as he lustfully convulsed over her. She knew he was referring to Darwin.

  “I had no idea I gave you Darwin,” she blew out in gasps. “I didn’t find out I was Prometheus until after we broke up; and I’m sorry I did this to you—”

  “You should have thought of that before you came back,” he bit out. In that verbal lashing she knew how much she’d hurt him. He obviously blamed her not only for giving him Darwin but also for abandoning him to suffer and die alone. Her return here, the wife of a healthy man and the mother of that man’s child, must have been a bitter pill for Frank to take and no fond memory could sweeten it.

  “Frank..
.please...” she gasped between panting breaths, struggling as he mauled her with his entire body. “You’re above this...”

  “No, I’m not,” he snarled in a hoarse voice. Arching up over her back, he seized her roughly by the waist, yanked her up to her hands and knees and pawed her breasts. Behind her, his steely thighs forced her legs apart and his swollen manhood slithered urgently into the fleshy cheeks of her buttocks, finding the way like a bee to nectar. This can’t be happening, she thought desperately. Although she recognized that it was the hurt little boy inside him lashing out, the problem was that it was the large man doing the lashing.

  She twisted and fell on her back to the floor to avoid the probing thrusts and with a shriek of fury thrashed out with her arms and legs, realizing too late that she’d made a mistake. He threw himself on her, knocking her breathless. He pinned her arms then covered her mouth with his. Gasping in revulsion, she twitched her head to the side but his mouth followed, leaving a slime trail over her cheeks. He thrust his vile tongue into her mouth against her clenched teeth and she tasted his bitterness. She wanted to scream but he was strangling her with his mouth and his body. Panting like a rank wind into her mouth as his urgency rose, he drove his knees between her thighs, wedging them apart. His mouth clamped over hers in a wet embrace and she felt his member pressing into her skin, hard and slick, finding where it needed to go with the help of his groping hand, rough and insistent.

  She was losing the battle! Her heart throbbed in her head. NO! She heard her own agonized wail as he intruded, hurting her and taking pleasure in it. She shuddered back vainly, hitting her head against the door, and pushing up into a half crouch. He thrust repeatedly into her, grunting with pleasure and drawing out jagged outcries from her to the rhythm of his pounding waves—