Love Bug

by Goodhue, H. E.

  The cell phone on the table began to vibrate and clatter across the polished wood.

  “Yes?” Eldritch snapped. He felt heat rise on the back of his neck and then quickly dissipate under his Em-Pak’s influence.

  “Sir?” it was Eldritch’s aide. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but there’s been a recent development.”

  “And that would be?” Eldritch asked, only half listening as he looked over his father’s notes.

  “It appears that some citizens, following your speech, went looking for Emos in their own neighborhoods,” the aide reported. “It’s still unclear as to whether or not they actually found any citizens who had removed their Em-Paks, but they are rioting, pulling people out of their homes.”

  “Rioting?” Eldritch smiled, his Em-Pak chirped.

  “Yes sir,” the aide continued. “There are similar reports coming from the outer cities, those with less of an ERC presence. It appears that the citizens do not want to wait for ERC officers to arrive to secure the cities. The situation is quickly becoming unmanageable.”

  “This is excellent,” Eldritch nodded. “Inform the local ERC offices to do what they can to control the damage to structures, but have the heads of all those offices report directly to me, as per ERC Council orders.”

  “Yes sir,” his aide responded, unsure of what he was really agreeing to.

  “Excellent,” Eldritch repeated to himself. If the citizens were becoming unruly, that would open the cities up to infection. A flare up in the outer cities would certainly gain the attention of those richer, more influential citizens living in the Stele.

  The riots would undoubtedly cause the chaos that Eldritch sought, but even more importantly, citizens fighting one another would lead to damaged Em-Paks and ultimately, Reds within the city walls. In the chaos and carnage, an Eldritch would once again emerge to rescue humanity.

  Now all that remained was to figure out how Eldritch was going to do this before the pandemonium he created destroyed the very thing he sought to control.

  -13-

  Bits of sunlight and conversation filtered in through the loose flaps of the tent. Cora’s entire body felt like it had been run over by a transport, which considering the last few days probably wasn’t too inaccurate.

  “You realize where we are, don’t you?” Xander asked, his eyes narrow and feet hanging off the edge of a green canvas cot. A large bruise had blossomed on the side of his right arm. Another smaller one darkened the corner of his left eye, but he otherwise appeared to be okay.

  “We’re in Remmy’s camp,” Cora groaned as she pushed herself up to sitting. “He pulled us out of the car wreck.”

  “He’s an Emo,” Xander muttered. “We’re in an Emo camp, a terrorist camp.”

  “He saved you,” Cora snapped. “If it hadn’t been for that Emo, you would’ve been torn apart by the Reds.”

  “The ERC would have saved us,” Xander argued. “Father would have sent a recovery team. He probably did. They probably arrived and couldn’t find us because of your little friend, Remmy.” Xander said his name as if it tasted foul upon his tongue. “Now we’re stuck here in some terrorist camp and father must think the worst.”

  “Father?” Cora snorted. Something acidic and fiery bloomed in her gut. It was unpleasant, but felt right, felt appropriate. “Are you really that naïve, Xander? If father wanted to save us, he would have. While you were busy passing out, Remmy dragged you up into a tree where we had to spend the entire day because of the Reds. He killed two of them to keep us safe, but no one from the ERC showed up, least of all father.”

  Cora had spent the last few days piecing together the events surrounding the crash. Remmy had saved them, her father had apparently done nothing and her mother was dead. Cora felt an overwhelming force crushing down upon her shoulders. She could feel the weight of these events reshaping her life, but why didn’t Xander? How was he so complacent? The thoughts ricocheted through Cora’s mind like wild bullets. She grasped for them, trying to make sense, but her body still felt like it was revolting, still out of control.

  Breathing out deeply and running her fingers backwards through her hair Cora tried to calm herself. This nervous habit would sometimes show up, but quickly be erased with one tinny bleep of her Em-Pak. Her Em-Pak! Cora’s mind screamed as her fingers felt the large rectangular bandage on the back of her neck. The small rise of her Em-Pak, something that had become as familiar as a freckle, was gone. Her Em-Pak had been removed!

  “Yup,” Xander smiled coldly. “They removed your Em-Pak, but left mine on for some reason. But your Em-Pak is gone, Cora. You’re guilty of emotional treason.”

  “How can I be guilty of something I didn’t do?” Cora almost cried. Tears welled in her eyes. This was a death sentence.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Xander shrugged. “It’s gone, and that’s a crime, so you’re guilty. This will look very bad for father, a close family member committing a high crime. Jeez, Cora, you really are an idiot. You didn’t even stop to think about how what you were doing could impact father’s career.”

  “Father’s career?” Cora snapped, that feeling deep in her gut giving her words a sharp edge. “His career? Are you serious, Xander? We could have died! Mother did! Doesn’t that matter to you? Don’t you care?”

  “Mother’s death is…regrettable,” Xander responded. His Em-Pak beeped. “Ours would have been as well, but I’m sure the ERC and the citizens won’t allow mother’s sacrifice to have occurred in vain.”

  “Xander, you can’t possibly think that this situation should be used as propaganda,” Cora admonished. “Please tell me that you don’t think that.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Xander asked. “Every situation offers an advantage if one looks closely enough. Father taught me that. It’s disappointing that you wouldn’t have figured that out for yourself. Honestly, I don’t know what he was thinking, grooming you instead of me.”

  “Enough!” Cora growled. “Xander, you have an answer for everything, huh? So why don’t you tell me what we should do.”

  “Leave, find the nearest ERC office and turn all of these terrorists in,” Xander stated matter-of-factly. “Then you can plead for mercy. Maybe Father will convince the ERC to kill you quickly.”

  “Kill me?” Cora asked. Her words were sharp and painful in her mouth.

  “You committed emotional treason,” Xander shrugged. “I don’t really see how this could end differently. Maybe if you help me turn in these terrorists the ERC will grant you exile or imprisonment. Of course, that’s only delaying the inevitable because the virus will take you now that your Em-Pak is gone.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Cora threatened. With the Em-Pak gone, a swirling mix of emotions roiled through her. She wanted so badly for Xander to share her hope for a new life, for a second chance outside of the city walls, but he was too myopic, too eager to prove himself to their father. There was no way she could convince him, even if she removed his Em-Pak.

  “Oh please,” Xander snorted. “Or what, Cora? You’ll get mad? Please do. Then not only will father have a terrorist in the family, but a Red as well. Having his daughter cleaned would really drive up his approval ratings. Maybe I’d be able to do it? Publicly killing a monster could really lay some groundwork for me get into the ERC.”

  Before she knew what she was doing, Cora lunged across the tent and slammed Xander down against the cot. His eyes remained calm and steady, his face expressionless. The beeping of his Em-Pak could be heard beneath Cora’s angry breathing.

  “You do anything, anything to threaten Remmy,” Cora snarled, “and I’ll show you a freaking monster!”

  “Cora, let him go,” Remmy’s voice commanded. His tone was even and firm, but laced with concern. “Take a few deep breaths. Go in through your nose and out through your mouth. Focus on something happy.” Remmy realized that Cora might not have a happy memory, might not even know what happy was. Cora most likely didn’t have any memories tied to emotions, but he neede
d to calm her down.

  “But he…” Cora protested. “He said he was going to…”

  “I heard him,” Remmy nodded. “But it’s not his fault. It’s the Em-Pak. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

  “Please,” Xander snorted. “I don’t need some filthy Emo to come to my rescue.”

  “You did before,” Remmy smirked, “when you were passed out in the wreck about to be torn apart by a Red. Forget pretty quickly, huh?”

  “Next time, feel free to leave me,” Xander answered. “My death will do more for Father’s cause than spending the rest of my life as a terrorist’s prisoner.”

  “Terrorist?” Remmy chuckled. “You’re so twisted up by your Em-Pak that you don’t know what the hell you’re saying. Man, look around. Do you see any terrorists? These are just regular people trying to survive. If anyone is peddling terror around here it’s the ERC, not us.”

  “Don’t even bother,” Cora snapped. Her shoulders heaved with short breaths, but she let Xander fall back onto the cot. What had she just done? She felt something towards Xander, something dark and menacing, but it was more than that. Underneath those strange feelings were even stranger ones. He was her little brother. That meant something, meant she should protect him, even from himself.

  “Let him stay here if he wants,” Remmy replied. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

  “Aren’t you worried that he’ll escape and report all of you to the ERC?” Cora hesitated.

  “He’s free to walk around camp,” Remmy answered, “but the guards aren’t going to let him leave unsupervised. I’m sorry, Xander, but with your Em-Pak still functioning it’s just too risky not to notify the watch. If you need anything, just ask, okay? Everyone is here to help.”

  “I’m sure,” Xander glared. “The nicest kidnappers in the world, right? I hope you’re not waiting for me to go all Patty Hearst like my sister, because that’s going to happen.”

  “Didn’t think it would,” Remmy answered. “But you’re wrong man. We’re not kidnapping you. As soon as we can find a way to safely return you to your father, we’ll do it.”

  “Top priority, I’m sure,” Xander scoffed as he slumped back onto his cot.

  “Come on, Cora,” Remmy said, holding the flap of the tent open. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  -14-

  Riots flared up in the outer cities and spread with the ferocity of a wildfire. Eldritch wondered how long he should allow this to continue before he stepped in and saved the citizens. He spent days locked away in the solitude of his house, pouring over his father’s notes and looking for some way to solidify his position as second generation savior to humanity. So far, a few ideas appeared promising, but nothing definite.

  Eldritch needed to think fast. The ERC was growing impatient, demanding results and the violence was spreading faster than Eldritch had anticipated. Of course, he had expected the citizens to turn on one another, and tear apart anything that appeared different, but this was beyond expectations. The Em-Paks must have suppressed a great deal more of the citizens’ natural desire to crush their neighbors than Eldritch had thought. Now, though, with a logical excuse, instead of an emotional one, the citizens were free to terrorize and riot as they pleased. Furthermore, their Em-Pak’s influence ensured that they could do so without a second thought or pang of guilt.

  However, with each riot a new crop of Reds were created. Eldritch was careful to have his ERC officers on standby to clean up the mess, but was also careful to allow the insanity to last long enough to make his point. The Emos, on the other hand, were proving to be less reliable than the citizens and Reds.

  Eldritch watched the video from his family’s accident and a young Emo clearly arrives at the wreck and takes Cora and Xander. The boy had to be working with the Reds. How else could he have gotten so close without being torn apart?

  Punching a few keys on his computer, Eldritch cued the video from the accident and transferred it to the large screen mounted on his wall. He began sorting through the feed shot by shot. The officer can be seen climbing out. Then a scream is heard. He drops to the ground near the camera, obscuring most of the view. A Red steps over the officer’s body. Its feet are visible as it tries to clamber through the shattered limo window. Moments later, the boy appears and…

  “Damn it,” Eldritch seethed and paused the video. His Em-Pak began beeping furiously. The anger slowly melted from his body. Watching the recording closely, Eldritch spied what looked like a rock dropped to the ground. What he had once thought was the boy coming to assist the Red, now looked like him killing it with the damn stone. The Red’s legs stopped moving just before the feed cut out. The damn Emo must have saved his children, not kidnapped them. If this got out, Eldritch would be finished. The ERC would make him disappear and there was no telling how the citizens would respond to the information, especially with their newfound sense of logical rebellion.

  Eldritch had to spin this, and get it under control. The citizens, and more importantly the ERC, needed to believe that the Reds and Emos were working in conjunction. The idea of this new threat was the linchpin to Eldritch’s entire plan, without it, things would fall apart.

  Groaning loudly, Eldritch turned his attention back to his father’s notes. A few small scribbles were on the last few pages, something he must have been working on just before he died. Eldritch shifted the notes towards the light of his desk lamp and looked closer. The carefully written words read like both his death sentence and salvation:

  “I have come to realize that the Em-Paks have side effects.” The notes began. “These devices should only be viewed as a temporary solution to the dangers of the virus and Reds. The Em-Paks are designed to suppress emotions and control them, but they do not erase them completely. Logically, I knew that these devices were temporary. It would be prudent to cycle them. Implantation in the current generation would serve to save society, but the Em-Pak is not permanent. Eventually, we will need to learn to control our emotional responses independent of these devices. Future generations should have an Em-Pak implanted at birth, but removed following proper emotional training and the advent of adulthood. It would be foolhardy and dangerous to think that the Em-Paks are a vaccine. Like all technology, they have limits. My preliminary experiments seem to indicate that given an overly emotional situation, the Em-Pak will malfunction and do the opposite of what is was intended to do. This sudden onslaught of emotions would surely overwhelm the citizens and lead to infection. I shudder to think what would occur in this situation, large pockets of the virus cropping up and ultimately cities overrun with Reds. To that end, I have programmed an override into the design of the Em-Pak. Given the correct sequencing code, the devices can be either shut down or magnified. It is my hope that the ERC will only use this failsafe in the direst of situations.”

  Eldritch sneered at the notes. His own father lacked faith and vision. What would people think if this was ever made public? The populous could not be trusted to live without Em-Paks. Could his father really have been that naïve?

  “My hopes are that once the Em-Paks have controlled the initial outbreaks of the virus and the cities made safe from Reds that citizens will learn to control their emotions through natural means. We must become responsible for our actions and emotions. It is my theory that the virus is rooted in negative emotions, but that we as a society have reached a point where we can no longer tell the difference between love and hate. These two emotions have become so intertwined that we now lack the ability to distinguish one from other. We must seek to transcend our selfishness and recapture the essence of humanity now that we have seen what living without compassion brings. My hope is that the Em-Pak will allow us to do so. Tomorrow, I will bring my results before the ERC as well as my plan to slowly wean the populous from my invention in the future.”

  “The ERC knows?” Eldritch muttered. “They know that the Em-Paks could ultimately fail? Interesting…” The failsafe that his father had installed could b
e used to either increase the Em-Pak influence or to completely turn them off. This was exactly what Eldritch had been looking for. Now all that remained was to find some way to involve the Emos.

  Grabbing his phone, Eldritch called his aide.

  “Yes sir?” the aide mumbled, it was after one a.m.

  “Wake up!” Eldritch demanded. “Damn it, wake up, right now!”

  “I am, sir,” the aide lied. “I’m up, sir.”

  “It’s time to call in the team,” Eldritch snapped.

  “Sir?” the aide questioned, as if he were unsure of what he had just been told to do. “I thought we were only going to do that in the event of an emergency.”

  “Are you questioning my orders?” Eldritch growled. He could almost hear his aide’s Em-Pak chirp. “Turn on your damn television. Does that look like anything other than an emergency?”

  “No, absolutely not, sir. I mean, yes sir, it does,” the aide answered quickly. “I’ll inform the team to make ready.”

  “Very good,” Eldritch smiled. “Tell Captain Ortiz to make sure that the orders are clear. They are not there to assist the citizens. This may seem confusing, but it is for the greater good. These loyal men will follow my orders, so make them clear. They are to infiltrate the cities as Emos. Do not shoot the Reds. Understood?”

  “Yes sir,” the aide answered. “And your orders beyond that?”

  “Create chaos,” Eldritch said coolly. “Tell them to have fun.”