Paradise Awakened Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  "And if we can't escape?" Katarina asks.

  "Then we'll all die together."

  She gives him a disappointed look. "I don't like that plan."

  "You don't have to like it. All you have to do is follow my orders. If Ben Crowe even thought about touching Jayce, I'll kill him. Hell, I'll kill him anyway. While I don't like Doss, there's no reason to torture someone like that. Not to mention what Ben's done to everyone else, including Isidore."

  Katarina sighs as she follows her owner in the darkness. Why does she have the dreadful feeling of certain and impending doom? Is there really no other way to go about this? Going unprepared into enemy territory is idiotic and asking for trouble. The last time she heard anything from sector two, Ben Crowe had machine gun nests and landmines scattered all around the area at barricades where hundreds of android soldiers are stationed. It's impenetrable. But apparently being faced by an insurmountable and deadly obstacle doesn't deter Jarred.

  Despite his craziness and apparent lack of sound judgment, Katarina is quickly growing accustomed to being around Jarred. He seems like a nice guy, rough around the edges and temperamental at times, but a good guy nonetheless. Something about his kindness pulls her in and she finds herself staring at him too often. It's not because she's attracted to him, which she kind of is, but because of his passion and drive. She admires him for his bravery to save the love of his life. That quality isn't easily found in men around here anymore. The worse this war gets and the direr the situation becomes, the less people care about others. They instead focus on preserving their own interests and their lives. It's refreshing to see this kind of devotion between two people who so obviously love each other more than themselves. While rushing into certain death is misguided at best, it is commendable.

  This makes her think of her own husband who is back in Zach's lab, struggling to breathe as he feels the destructive nanobots eating away at his body. Her heart aches for him. If Jarred didn't need her help to rescue Jayce, she would be right there by Byron's bedside to take care of him. Even though she occasionally flirts with and kisses other men, her body and her heart belong to him and him alone. Some nights, Katarina lies awake and watches him. On those restless nights, she tries to be supportive for him as a dutiful wife should. She doesn't mind. Byron would do the same for her.

  Part of the reason she can accept his inevitable decline and death any day, is what she has been able to learn about herself from the past few weeks and those around her. Just weeks ago, she was focused solely on herself and the plasma matches. She didn't think that she would ever do anything like this. Perhaps Jarred buying her was a good decision after all.

  There is still one thing that she hasn't had the opportunity to come to terms with fully. That's her brother's death. If she doesn't think about it, it can't invade her consciousness. Yes, it hurts. Yes, she misses him dearly. Every day that goes by is agony for her as she continually looks around for him and his robots or waiting to hear his funny stories he would tell people every day. He had so much potential to be a brilliant scientist and inventor. He could have developed more robots and drones for the Inquisition or for use in hospitals, but now that has been snuffed out prematurely. She never pictured it ending like that and so suddenly.

  It's hard to watch her father now. Since that morning, his drug use has become all too clear to her. He is struggling to cope with all. While she used to have a pretty close bond with Isidore, he has always closest to Dmitri. They would spend Friday nights together building robots and computers until sunrise or until they fell asleep among a pile of cables and spare parts. At one point, Isidore was going to Dmitri for new programs. It was a relationship that nothing could sever . . . except a misguided archon.

  Does she hate Doss for what he did? Yes and no. While she can accept that he was only doing what he thought would be best for all of humanity, there was no excuse for using the little boy who practically worshipped him as an experiment. It was surprising to find out that it was Doss who was killing him. From the moment she met him, she knew that Doss was a religiously devout man who had people's best interest in mind. The way she looks at it is that she hurt him and took away his position in the Inquisition and he took away her brother. While not equal by any means, they have both hurt each other gravely. Maybe in time they can be friends again.

  "Damn it!" Jarred cries out as he falls forward and hits his face on the pavement. A thin wire has cut through his pants and into his ankles. Almost as if on cue, androids surround them, force Jarred to his feet, then shackle him and Katarina. For a spotter, Jarred isn't being very observant. He knows it, too. He looks down at the ground as his face turns pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Kat."

  Kat is forced to walk forward and shoved into a van beside Jarred. In the floor, wrapped in a white sheet and crying, is Jayce. His long black hair is a mess and rusty dried blood is smeared on his chin. He is physically shaking and doesn't seem to notice that they're there.

  Jarred whispers to him. "Jayce? Are you okay?"

  Jayce eventually looks at him. Katarina can see the severe distress in those sandy brown eyes. What have they been doing to him? Something isn't right in his mind.

  Jarred turns to one of their captors. "He's not doing well. Please let me calm him down. I'm the only one who can do it. He has PTSD and panic attacks. I'll keep my handcuffs on; just let me down there to him. He's an android like you, for God's sake. Don't let one of your own kind suffer like this."

  The android with a ski mask nods his head and lets go of the chain.

  Jarred doesn't waste any time crawling as best as he can to his husband and takes his hand. "Jayce, I'm right here. You're gonna be okay. Everything is okay, buddy. Je t'aime."

  He takes a deep breath and leans against Jarred's chest. "Jarred . . ."

  "There you go. Just breathe. I'm not gonna let them hurt you. No one can harm you while I'm here. Focus on my voice and block out everything else."

  22

  Blice flutters into the dark room and lands on the bedside table. His brother is restlessly sleeping. Byron's breathing is raspy and labored. His hair is plastered to his face and even in sleep, tears are in the corners of his eyes. He stays there for a while, just watching him sleep and doing something that he doesn't do very often at all. He says a prayer to whatever being will hear him. If scientists and doctors in Paradise can't heal Byron, maybe something bigger than everything can. He's never been religious, despite Isidore's attempts to teach him about God so many years ago. Something about it just never clicked to him. But seeing Byron suffering like this day after day and week after week is making him desperate for an answer. He would do anything at this point to save him, to reverse the effects of the destructive nanobots coursing through his bloodstream and attacking his body. Everyone knows that he doesn't have much time and it was a death sentence from the very start, but even knowing that, Byron has stayed strong.

  Byron has always been the stronger one. He has an unwavering resolve that can't be broken. Even though Blice is the older one, he often looks to Byron for advice and support. They've never been friends. Separated when they were still babies, Blice grew up in the privileged above ground Paradise while Byron was forced to grow up in the harsh wasteland, never knowing the luxuries of Blice's life as the president's son. It was never as fabulous as it sounds. Between being experimented on by his abusive father, being shunned by other children because of his purple eyes, and struggling with drug addiction, Blice almost wishes he had been the one in the wasteland. That was a major point of contention between the two brothers.

  That rift only grew when Byron slept with both of Blice's wives. It has been a deep-seated rivalry this entire time. Even when Isidore was the center of their arguing, they were on opposite sides with differing opinions on how androids should be trained and how far was too far. In the end, Isidore gave Katarina to Byron instead of Blice. He's actually glad. Blice has been in no position mentally or physically, for that matter, to train another android
. It takes complete dedication one hundred percent of the time. He had finally gotten Isidore to be the way he wanted him right before he gave his life to save him.

  That was the least he could have done for his best friend. Even though they were owner and android, they were so much more than just that. Isidore knew all of Blice's darkest secrets and Blice provided everything for Isidore. Even when Vladimir Evans was forcing Blice to beat him down, they still had bright times when they managed to drive out to the beach or up in the mountains. It was on those weekend trips when their friendship was still alive and well. It killed Blice to know that on Sunday, they would have to drive back to Paradise and he would be forced to beat and starve his friend who he just had an amazing weekend with. They did what they could when possible to still hang on to the scraps of their friendship.

  Byron groans in his sleep and rubs his eyes as he wakes up.

  Blice crawls onto his hand. "Brother, are you okay?"

  "No."

  "I wanted to talk to you about some stuff. How is that new medicine working for you?"

  "Off and on." Byron says weakly. "Lately, it's been worse."

  It breaks Blice's heart to see him like this, especially knowing how it all started. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't worry about it."

  "No, I will worry about it." Blice says. "If we hadn't had that fight, if I hadn't hit you with my dark matter, then you'd be fine. You wouldn't be dying and you'd still have your leg."

  "We're not talking about this right now."

  "Listen to me. I don't want you to die without allowing me the chance to fully apologize. I know it's my fault. I'm killing you, Byron. I had no idea when that happened how bad it would be on you. I wasn't thinking and I reacted instinctively. If there was any way I could make it go away, I would. It's haunting me to know that I'm losing you because of something I did. When I'm around Kat, I know that I'm the one who will be taking her husband's life. How am I supposed to live with myself?"

  "It really doesn't matter anymore." Byron says.

  "You know, if you became a T.I.M.E., we could put your microchip into a new body after you die. I'm sure that Kazimir wouldn't make you be a butterfly like me. That way you could go on living."

  Byron scoffs. "Is it really living? Face the truth, Blice. You're not alive. You're an artificial intelligence program based on a reconstruction of Blice McSage's condensed thoughts, memories, and behaviors. While very advanced and admittedly convincing, you will never be my brother. Blice died twenty years ago to save Isidore, Katarina, and humanity down here. Why do you think Isidore hasn't accepted you as his owner or his best friend like he used to? Deep down, he knows. And he's pushing you away because every time he's around you, he is ultimately reminded about Blice and all they had together before it ended."

  "I'm taking that as a no."

  "They way I see it, if I'm dead, people should let me stay that way. There's no need to try to drag it out. Humans die. I accepted that a long time ago. I don't want artificial organs or some computer system in my brain. I want to live as a human and die as a human. Is that too much to ask for? I've never been one for far-fetched technology and experiments. If I can't do something with the hands God gave me, then maybe I shouldn't be trying to do it. I've learned a lot from my life. It hasn't always been pretty or easy, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I've had love, loss, joy, sadness, and everything in between. Do I have regrets? Too many to count. Are there things I wish I had done when I could have? Of course. Does my past haunt me? Every single night. But those are the things that make life worth living. It's not about being happy all the time. It's the experience of it all and the decadent contrast between the light and dark. If I've experienced all I'm meant to, then I accept my fate gratefully."

  "Do you hate me?" Blice asks.

  "I've learned to not hate anyone, even the evil ones."

  "I guess I'm one of the evil ones?"

  "Not anymore." Byron says. "I forgive you, Blice. We've both come a long way since then. You've suffered for what you did and I can't stay mad at you."

  "But what do I do when-" Blice stops talking when an alarm sounds in the hallway and a metal door slams shut nearby. He flies to the door. "I'll be right back. I'm going to check on things."

  As he makes his way down the hallway, he stops just around the corner and peaks around to see Remiel backed up against the wall and another archon pointing at him menacingly.

  "Remi, Remi, Remi . . . you're in big trouble, boy." The archon says.

  Remiel is shaking as he looks at the archon.

  The archon with the glistening black wings shakes his head. "You haven't reported back yet. Is there a reason for that?"

  Remiel's boyish voice is small and wavers as he speaks. "Michael, I was trying to-"

  "I don't want to hear your petty excuses."

  "I was telling Zach what he wanted to know or they'd kill me."

  "You little spy!" Michael yells at him then grabs his arm. "I'm going to rip those wings from your body!"

  Kazimir steps into the hallway and holds up his hand. "Stop. What is going on here? Let him go, Michael."

  Michael chuckles and pushes Remiel down to the floor. "Well, look who it is. Sorry, but I don't talk to traitors."

  "Look in the mirror."

  "Don't even try to do this right now. I'm here for Remiel and Uriel."

  "Remiel hasn't done anything." Kazimir says. "You leave him out of this."

  "I need him to take me to Uriel."

  "What is this actually about?"

  Michael grasps Remiel's blonde hair forcefully. "He has to face justice for his crimes against the other archons and the IGR."

  "The IGR? I know all about you and Gabriel. What I asked is about the bigger picture."

  "I don't have to tell you anything, old man."

  Kazimir's glare grows darker. "I'm warning you. Don't tempt me. I have been formulating so many interesting and painful ways to kill you since you and Gabriel staged your little coup."

  Michael pulls an AK-47 from his back and motions to Kazimir. "On your knees, creator. Don't fight me over this or I will kill you. Remi is coming with me and we are going to find Uriel."

  Kazimir complies. "Just don't hurt Remiel."

  "You only care so much about Remiel because you modeled him after your son. Well guess what? Uriel is the one who killed your son. Are you really going to stand in the way of him facing justice for that?"

  "Your brand of justice isn't justice, Michael. You're a corrupted monster."

  "A monster? I'll show you a monster." He pulls the trigger and the walls reverberate with the echo of it.

  Kazimir collapses on the floor in a pool of blood.

  At this moment, all the side room doors open and Zach's cyborgs rush out with guns drawn then begin shooting. Michael returns fire, mowing down dozens of them at a time with ease. Even those with armor quickly fall at his feet.

  "Stop this madness!" Zach cries out from the doorway to the lounge.

  Michael aims at him and squeezes the trigger, but nothing happens. He tosses away the empty gun and draws a long thin dagger from his waist. He lunges at Zach who runs back into the lounge.

  Blice flies up just to in time to watch Zach attempting to hide behind the table, but the archon picks it up with one hand and sends it across the room where it crashes into splinters against the wall. Papers and glasses fly to the floor. Glass shatters across the carpet and Zach screams again. He hides behind the arm of the sofa, but that is turned over and slashed through by the dagger.

  "Please, don't!" Zach holds up his hands defensively as Michael jumps over the sofa and throws him down on the floor. The thin blade of the dagger plunges into Zach's back and he goes silent.

  Michael wipes the blade on his pants and turns to slash at two more cyborgs who rush up behind him. His quick and precise movements of the dagger leave them on the floor with expertly placed lethal slashes across their throats. He goes down the hallway towards Byron's room.

>   Blice flies up close to the ceiling in an attempt to remain out of sight, but he mentally prepares himself to fight if he has to in order to save his brother. He watches Michael step close to the door just until it slides open.

  "Byron Erikson, is that you?"

  "Yes." Byron says. "What's going on?"

  "Nothing for you to be concerned with. Just stay in bed. I'll be back for you in a bit once I finish up tying up loose ends." He turns back to Remiel who is huddled in the corner whimpering and begging him to stop and to not hurt him. Michael grabs his robe and pulls him to his feet. "Give me one good reason why I should spare your pathetic life."

  Remiel is crying hysterically and his face is red. He closes his eyes. "Please! I'm sorry. Michael, don't kill me."

  Michael presses the edge of the blade against Remiel's neck. "Not good enough." He drags it all the way across the young archon's neck who goes limp and the blood rains down, soaking both of their clothes. Michael drops him to the floor and kicks him hard in the chest before stomping on his head to cave it in. Remiel stops moving and is forever silent. Michael holds up his dagger as the front door opens.

  A thin man in silver metallic armor with a long black cape emblazoned with the red and yellow skull of the IGR and tall black leather boots enters the hallway. His rust-colored spiked hair glistens in the lights from the beads of sweat slicked through it. A long barreled laser pistol rests on his hip next to a short leather whip and some kind of small computer. He pushes his overly large sunglasses up on top of his head, revealing a narrow pink burn from ear to ear across the top of his nose and cheekbones. He takes his white gloves off and tucks them into the top of his left boot. "Michael, what have you done?"

  Michael throws down his bloody dagger and bows. He wipes the blood from his hands and arms on his robe that used to be white. "Admiral, Velex, I was just-"

  "I don't need excuses. We didn't send you down here to kill Remiel or Kazimir. Who else have you mindlessly slaughtered? If you killed Byron Erikson, I will personally rip those wings from your body and push you off of the Imperial Space Carrier. You will learn to follow orders as they are dictated to you, not the way you believe they should be carried out."