“Why?” asked Anna.
Silas shrugged. “He did what he believed in.”
“No,” Anna replied. “Why does anyone stay here? Why work for a murderer?”
Silas rocked on his feet slightly. “Some of us agree with Hoffman. Others are afraid of him. I think that it is inevitable. When people set out to discover something of great power, everyone starts off thinking that they will never achieve it. Everyone starts off not thinking of it as real. As they get closer to achieving goals, the reality becomes inescapable. It's like... distilling a liquid. By the end, only those of the greatest conviction remain.”
“And why do you remain?” she asked.
Silas was silent. He stared at his desk, blinking rapidly. After a moment, he finally looked up at Anna. “Faith,” he said. “Faith that humanity will do well with the tools we create. Hoffman isn't wrong with many of the things he says. I think that's why so many stay. Humanity will only know if it is up to the challenge when the challenge is presented.”
“But what about all of the people who will die?” asked Anna. “The only outcome of these tools is war. It will be the first thing we use them for,” Anna said, emphatically and almost pleading.
Silas shook his head sadly. “I know... I think about all of the people further into the future who will be helped, though. It gives me solace as I ask God for forgiveness. I ask for forgiveness because I know that my actions will cause pain... but I believe that the benefits are such that... such that... I am willing to sacrifice my soul.”
“And the souls of others?” asked Anna.
Silas sighed, his face pulled by a sadness that made it seem as though he were about to cry. “What I do is evil. I make no excuse for that. I move forward now because... I feel as though I must. We must go forward. I cannot force society to be good. All I can do is give it what I find and hope that it does well.” Silas took another sip of water. “There's a part of me that wants to make these discoveries so that someone else will not have to. Because I am broken, now... I go forward because I must... I function because I must... I don't even know why I must. I just do. These are the discoveries that prevent you from ever making another discovery. They are deadly. Once I am done here, I will leave, I will go home, and I will sit. I will breathe... every day I will breathe... until one day I will not.” Silas closed his eyes and spoke in a whisper as a tear ran down his cheek. “And what a blessed release it will be.” Silas turned to Anna with a tired gaze. “Do not go further than you can see. You do not know what you will find.”
Anna looked back at him, sad and disturbed.
“I'm tired,” Silas said. “I'm sorry to cut this so short, and on such a sad note, but I think that I need to rest.”
Anna nodded. “Of course. Thank you for your time,” she said. Silas nodded and, wearily, walked out into the soporific glow of the lab and out the door.
---
Cassidy lay across the seats of the boat, asleep and snoring, the bright morning sun over her hair-covered face. Jebediah's hand came over and gave Cassidy a light tap on the cheek. “Cassidy,” he said. Another light tap. “Cassidy,” he said again. Finally, he just slapped her.
“Buggarl! Havva! I got!” Cassidy babbled as she lurched awake. “AGH!” she yelled, cracking her back. “OH, fuck! Everything hurts!” Cassidy looked around. Jebediah stood in front of her, putting things into a bag, while Gideon drank from a canteen. “What time is it?” she asked.
“About eleven,” said Jebediah. “We're at the town that the old man told us about.”
Cassidy grimaced and grunted as she stood up, looking out over the bright, blinding landscape. “Are those riverboats?” she asked.
“Yes,” replied Jebediah. “Seems like a good place to find passage to Houma.”
Cassidy dropped heavily down onto the ground beside the vehicle and stretched. “Here's hoping we don't get murdered and eaten, now. It would be a shame to have made it this far and be eaten by Bayou-dwelling cannibals.”
“Oh for God's sake,” said Jebediah. “Not everyone who doesn't live in San Francisco is some savage.”
“I didn't say everyone... just the people down here. I'm sorry, but only crazy people live in a swamp.” Gideon handed Cassidy a couple of bags. “Are you taking all of the food and water?”
“Yes,” said Gideon. “We could be hours away from Houma. I'd rather be prepared.” Gideon then dropped down to the ground.
“Everyone ready?” asked Cassidy. The other two nodded. “Alright.” The three started walking toward the boats. “Jebediah, did you get any sleep last night?”
“No.”
“Good lord, you feeling alright?”
“I'll be better once we get on our way to Houma. Because from there, we still have ten hours or more to Houston.”
Cassidy lifted her arm and sniffed her armpit. “We stink,” she said.
“Yes we do,” said Jebediah.
“At least we'll fit in,” added Gideon.
“See,” said Cassidy. “Gideon agrees with me.”
“Everything down here smells like shrimp,” said Gideon. “I feel like I'm eating just smelling the air.”
“When we get into town, let's make sure to insult their mothers,” said Jebediah. “That's important.”
“I knew you'd come around to our way of thinking,” said Cassidy. “You're a good man, Jebediah. You're a good man.”
---
The grime-covered, middle-aged man squatted over the pile of rope as he checked knots on the dock. Seagulls made a racket as a cat rubbed itself around his legs and a few other people milled about. Cassidy walked up to him as he looked up at her.
“Howdy,” Cassidy said. “We'd like passage to Houma. You know how we can get that?”
“Yes ma'am,” he said in a thick Cajun accent. “Over on there,” he said, pointing to a middle-aged woman, stocky and wearing overalls, standing on a dock by a small, steam-powered riverboat. “Miss Frankie heads to Houma near every day. I'm sure she'll be willing to take you on.”
Cassidy nodded. “Thank you very much. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, ma'am. Anything for a pretty lady,” the man said with a smile. Cassidy gave a slight smile back and the three walked over to the woman. The town was small but bustling around them as small boats went up and down the river. The cat that had been rubbing itself on the man trotted along with Cassidy, following the three. They walked up to Miss Frankie who was talking with a man loading cargo onto her boat.
“Miss Frankie?” asked Cassidy.
“Who's asking?” replied Miss Frankie in a cantankerous tone.
“I am,” replied Cassidy, equally cantankerous.
“Oh. Well... yes. What can I do for you?”
“We'd like passage to Houma. Can you do that?”
“Girlie, you're in luck! I'm heading to Houma within the hour. I've got cargo to deliver. Five dollars for each of you and you got yourself a deal.”
Cassidy nodded. “Deal.”
“As soon as my load shows, we can shove off.”
“What are you hauling?” asked Cassidy.
“Chickens! A whole bunch of 'em.”
“Of course you are,” said Cassidy. “Can we step on? We're all rather tired.”
“Feel free. I'll be on shortly. Don't touch anything!”
“I wouldn't dream of it, ma'am.” Cassidy turned to Jebediah and Gideon. “Boys. Our chariot awaits.”
---
George and the supervisor stood near the end of the machine, the dim lights from above faintly illuminating them and the room.
“So, last chance, do you have any questions?” asked the supervisor.
“No. I think I'm good,” replied George. “It's not horribly complex”
“You'll grow to hate that,” the supervisor said. “You'll be staying in your same room. The guard up above is the top-side guard and he's now monitoring you. Everyone going in and out of this place is monitored, so no visitors, no nothing. You go in and out. Noth
ing else.” George nodded. “Alright. I'm leaving. I hope to never see you again. Good luck, God speed, and other such pleasantries.”
George nodded again. “Thank you,” he said. The supervisor nodded, turned, and walked into the elevator. George watched and, after the elevator door closed, turned and sighed deeply. He looked his new mechanical ward up and down.
“Good, fucking, Christ, I thought he'd never leave!” said Professor Jacobson.
George turned, surprised, to see Jacobson and Claudette walking toward him. “What... what are you two doing here?”
“Visiting you, of course,” replied Jacobson. “I'm not doing anything in the lab, I may as well come here.”
“I followed because I was concerned,” said Claudette.
“How did you know I was here?” asked George.
“We didn't,” replied Claudette. “After we saw you were gone from the brig, we checked the rooms where we thought you might be. Lo and behold, here you were. We've been waiting for damn-near the last two hours.”
George smiled an uncontrollable smile. “It's good to see both of you,” he said. “I'm apparently sequestered up here. I'm not allowed to go anywhere else but here and above.”
“Hey, at least you can go outside freely,” said Claudette. “Meanwhile we all have rickets.”
“Did you find out where that voice had come from?” asked Jacobson.
“No, but I had another conversation with him. He wouldn't tell me his name, but he said that he helped build this place. He said his fingerprints were on everything.”
“Creepy,” said Claudette.
“He reiterated that everything here is a lie.”
“Well, that's obvious,” replied Jacobson.
“Yes, but that was his point. It's not really a lie. It's some terrible truth. They aren't lying to hide the same old motivations as every other nation — power, money, what have you. He said that isn't true. He said their motivations are actually different, but that is somehow bad. He spoke very... biblically. And he, grrrrr, he wouldn't speak more specifically or clearly! It sounds like he had answers but didn't want to tell me.”
Jacobson rested his hands in his coat pockets. “If you want my advice, don't spend a moment worrying about answers.”
George looked back, confused. “Why?”
“Because at the end of this whole thing, we're going to get answers whether we want them or not.”
---
Cassidy and Gideon sat on the bench on the side of the small, steam-powered riverboat. The early evening sun hung just at the horizon, filling the sky with reds and purples. They were propped up against each other's backs. The sound of dozens of chickens clucking, cooing, and otherwise sounding upset endlessly came out of the pile of crates on the main platform on the back of the boat. Inside the cabin stood Frankie. Frankie opened up a window on the wall and yelled out to the trio. “Alright, you three, this is Houma. Largest town around outside of New Orleans. You need something, it's here.”
Cassidy and Gideon stood up, followed by Jebediah, as they looked forward as the boat steamed up to a dock. “Thank God that ordeal is done,” said Gideon.
“Yep. Time for a whole new ordeal,” replied Cassidy. “Life is good.”
“First step is to send a telegram back to the New Orleans,” said Jebediah.
“Do you think there's any way they could get my car back to Houston?” asked Cassidy.
“I'm sure they could, but I don't think it a good idea,” replied Jebediah. “Our mystery foe may be aware of our presence and is watching the New Orleans train station. I think we should keep your car right where it is.”
“Shit,” Cassidy said. “Most of my money and damn near all of my weapons are in that car.”
“Don't worry,” said Jebediah. “We will not be making the same mistakes that we did last time. I'm putting the word out. Over the next two days, we will have hundreds of men pouring down into Houston. That city will be swimming in agents. You will have all of the guns you could want, and all of the men to shoot them.”
Cassidy smiled. “Good. Because I think there's going to be a lot of shooting.”
8
Hoffman was at his desk talking to one of his underlings, a boyish young man in a leather apron and wearing ridiculously large goggles on his forehead. Hoffman was suddenly aware of Anna, standing in the doorway to his office. He stopped talking with the young man who likewise turned to Anna. He then turned back to Hoffman who nodded, sending the underling on his way who scurried past Anna. The two stared at each other for a moment, each looming over the other in the blue glow of the lab.
“Can I help you, Miss Brown?” asked Hoffman, sitting.
“Why do they let you do that?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean,” she replied, an undercurrent of anger in her voice.
Hoffman nodded and paused. He took his glasses off and placed them on the desk. “They understand that I do what I do, and they want what I do. As such, I am afforded... the authority... to make decisions. And sometimes those decisions are difficult.”
“Like murdering someone who didn't agree with you.”
“He did more than disagree with me!” replied Hoffman, suddenly angry. Anna breathed deeply, scared by the outburst, but her gaze remained defiantly fixed. Hoffman deflated himself a bit as he regained his composure. “He sabotaged our work — my work.”
“Your weapons,” replied Anna.
Hoffman sighed and looked down at his desk, exasperated. “Miss Brown, I figured by now that you would have understood that I do not care. I care about the work. I care about the development. I don't care about the people for whom I do my work, since the work is always mine. The work is my life, and anyone who interferes with it threatens my life. The echo of my existence will continue for the rest of time.” Hoffman rose from his chair and turned away from Anna, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked at the large bubbling tank, floating bodies of people connected to tubing and cables contained inside. “Humanity will always persist, whether it deserves it or not. If humanity takes my work and travels to the stars, wonderful. That is wonderful. If humanity takes my work and turns it against itself, likewise wonderful. Through the heat of a self-imposed hellfire, a better humanity will be forged. The dirt and detritus of ten-thousand years of civilization, the gunk inside of a great engine, will be washed away. I don't care what happens, because the magnificence of my work will be made manifest regardless. The ripples of my existence will propagate through the oceans of blood until they crest upon the foundations of a new world.”
“But why... why... why charge toward that? Why actively seek a weapon so powerful that it could destroy whole nations?”
He turned to Anna, his eyes in the shadow of his brow. “Because, it is inevitable. We will reach that point, and beyond. There is nothing that anyone here can do to stop that. That is the reality. That is the truth. What we discover here would be discovered by others. This is not art—the creation of something—this is the unveiling of that which already existed. That, essentially, frees us of concern about the morality of our investigations. And, indeed, those who must make the moral decisions have not yet been born; the weapons about which they must decide, not yet built.”
“So all of your grand speeches when we first met were nothing but you manipulating me. All lies.”
“No. They were the truth. You just chose to see the truth through your own interpretive lens — a lens formed in the pleasant surrounds of a peaceful metropolis, protected by your wealthy mother-figure.”
“But your lens is legitimate?” asked Anna, “Your cruel, self-serving, lens formed from a position of power?”
“The world that forged your lens represents less than one percent of this planet,” replied Hoffman. “Whether it is correct, or legitimate, or ideal doesn't matter. It barely exists. Likewise, I make no judgments about my lens other than that it brings the vast majority of the world into perfect focus.�
�� Anna glared silently back at Hoffman, who said nothing. After a moment, she abruptly turned and walked away.
---
Cassidy, Gideon, and Jebediah all bobbed back and forth in their seats, asleep, as the train rolled on. The cabin was well-appointed but not luxurious. Jebediah lay across one bench while Cassidy and Gideon leaned up against each other. Outside the moon was high in the clear sky as they rumbled on toward Houston. Cassidy yawned and lifted her body up, causing Gideon to fall slightly and wake up. She reached back to catch him but he held his hand up, signaling that he was fine.
“What time is it?” Gideon asked quietly.
“I don't know,” replied Cassidy. “Moon... time. Moontime. It's time with the moon in the sky.”
“Eloquently put,” said Gideon. “Are you waking up because you're hungry?”
“Yeah. We just went straight to sleep. Do you think the dining car actually has anyone there? I think I'd be willing to eat anything.”
“Well, we have those food bars.”
Cassidy grunted.
“You did say anything,” said Gideon.
“Yeah, but that's a rather loose definition of anything. Logs, babies, and cow pies all count as anything and I wouldn't eat them.” Gideon just held up a bar expectantly in front of Cassidy, giving it a little shake. Cassidy stared back at him through slits before finally just grabbing the bar. “Gimme' that,” she said. She ripped open the paper and started eating, as did Gideon. “It tastes like something your mother would give you for punishment.”
Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III Page 65
