MOAB � Mother Of All Boxsets

by George Saoulidis

  It is by will alone I set my mind in motion.

  Arrow flies straight at 173 Km/h. Turning arrows fly logarithmically less, depending on the angle.

  He eyeballed the math. It was life or death, anyway.

  Artemis let go of another arrow. Everything went silent as her Amazons held their breath and waited for the result.

  The result was expected. Even Greg wouldn’t bet against those odds.

  Change the result. Tilt, tilt the balance. Tilt. It is by will alone I…

  Trophy. Don’t be a trophy.

  He popped open a car door and angled it just so. He saw her letting go of the bow string.

  He could eyeball the trajectory. All he needed was to put the window at a forty-five degree angle, to cause a glancing blow.

  The arrow was of course barely visible, nothing more than a blur in the air. He shut his eyes and held the door tight.

  The glass shattered all over his face. He dared to check himself, no arrows embedded in his body. In his heightened state, pumped full of adrenaline, it would be easy to ignore deadly injuries.

  The arrow clinked down the street, deflected away.

  Success.

  Artemis pulled another arrow from her quiver.

  Greg squinted. This one looked different, the tip was somehow shaped wider.

  It didn’t matter. All that mattered, was that it was a new variable in a game of life and death.

  Greg ran.

  He heard the arrow coming, this time. It screamed in the air and the Amazons clamoured. A whistling arrow, meant to scare its prey.

  She hunted him like an animal, like one of her safaris.

  The arrow was slower, but it slashed his ribs. Greg was bleeding all over now.

  His body collapsed, he propped himself up by his arms and panted, spat out blood. He turned himself and stared at the woman.

  She walked towards him, slowly; her bow held away from her body, its counterbalances moving around in the dark.

  The angry goddess brought her face close to his. She simply said, “I caught you.”

  Then she pulled another arrow from her quiver and aimed her bow at his face, point-blank range.

  The arrow-tip gleamed in the city’s lights.

  Greg said the first thing that came to mind. Her quote, as a matter of fact. “Better to be strong, than pretty and useless.”

  Those green eyes squinted and stared down harder at him.

  “I-I taught my girlfriend that. From you,” he stammered.

  The arrow-tip still pointed at his eye socket. Then Artemis turned around and motioned her women to leave.

  Greg just sat there on the street, breathing hard, blinking. Just blinking.

  Chapter 49: Galene @ 1.7x nhs

  Gal was on a business trip. They suddenly sent her off back to Pontevedra, this time on a commercial airline. It seemed fancy privileges were only applicable when being with Greg, but she wouldn’t want to get the jet, anyway. It was bad enough that she was going back there, a place where he inhabited her memories.

  She simply agreed. It wasn’t her project, and she shouldn’t be the one to be sent there, but she didn’t care. She didn’t pay attention to anything anymore, the work, her colleagues, the Timeshaver app. She just went on by, day by day, while her belly kept growing.

  As soon as she reached the city, she attacked an ice-cream, double-decked. With chocolate sprinkles, and none of that bitter chocolate crap. The business meeting could wait for a bit. She had cravings to consider. It was one of the Teucrinos’ joints. There were photos and holos and scarves with Spain’s colours everywhere. His records written in bronze plaques on the walls. These guys were crazy about him. It was nice; they had something to feel proud about, and they didn’t hold back on their enthusiasm. Her own suggestion to the company had given them plenty of resources to be there at Teucer’s every championship.

  There wasn’t one now, so the people at the cafe were normal guys and girls, chatting, having ice cream like hers, drinking coffee. Ordinary folks.

  Then she noticed the man across the cafe, sitting on a table, and she threw the ice cream at him.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Hello, Gal.”

  “I said, fuck you.” She got up and stormed away, but fat cows like her couldn’t really storm away that easily. The patrons stared and whispered among them, or took video with their phones.

  Greg ran up to her and fell on his knees. He hugged her belly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Fuck. Y-”

  “Yes,” he nodded deeply. “Yes, you have every right to be mad.”

  “Mad? Mad? I’m not mad.” Gal slapped him on the head many times. He just covered his eyes and took the blows.

  “I only learnt about our baby yesterday. I swear.”

  “Well, if you had called, I could have told you weeks ago. So: Fuck, you.”

  “I’m sorry. I was terrified to go outside. I had… Artemis hunted me. It… I needed therapy, I could barely function.”

  “And I could? You left me!” She slapped him once more.

  “To save you, they were chasing me.”

  “Not then, you moron. After that.”

  “Yes, right. I’m sorry.”

  “Three months!”

  “Yes. I have no excuse, really.”

  “Three, goddamn months! I’m a balloon now. Look at me.”

  “Yes.” Greg took out a little velvety box from his pocket and opened it to her. It had a ring in it. The cafe patrons gasped. “Will you marry me?”

  “Fuck you! And why would I, since the baby isn’t yours?”

  He waited, on one knee, covered in ice cream, ring presented.

  “No, really. I slept with five guys. Or six. I can’t remember. It’s not yours.”

  “I’m so sorry. Please let me make it up to you. Just give me the chance. Will you marry me?”

  “Fuck you. Malaka.”

  She stormed off, and he followed. It was easy for him to catch up with her, him being a man and her being a fat cow. They went across half the city that way in the weirdest chase/proposal, ever.

  Chapter 50: Galene @ 1.9x nhs

  Galene couldn’t sleep. She puffed the pillows on the bed, but she still couldn’t get comfortable. She was enormous now.

  Short girls go through the worst pregnancies.

  Mel showed up, silent as always. “Need anything, Galene?”

  “I’m having nightmares.”

  The Muse propped up the pillows and motioned for her to lean back. She brushed her hair and started whispering a fairy tale. “Once upon a time there was a prince who ruled the land from a glass tower. He was a hard-working man and wanted to do well by his people, so he asked a witch for help with his studies. The witch brought her spellbook…”

  Gal dozed off.

  “Greg, I’m gonna ask you something weird. Why was your android Muse breathing deep in my ear last night, and more importantly, why was I enjoying it?”

  Greg made breakfast for her, fatty toast which was her favourite. “It’s ASMR, Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, basically a tingling, calming sensation when someone whispers to you or brushes your ears. Stuff like that. It was something that was defined in 2010, it’s not that old.”

  “Not that old? I was born in 2010!”

  Greg stopped moving and held his butter knife in the air. “Yes. Indeed. I guess it is rather old. Did I mention how every chat with you ends up making me feel old?”

  “Wait till you see our boy riding a bike.”

  Greg smiled wide. “I can’t wait.” He leaned in to kiss her.

  She pulled away. “What are you doing? You broke up with me.”

  “That’s crazy! Why would I break up with you? You’re so hot.”

  Then she kissed him.

  They worked, each on their own project. Greg had moved on from the augmented Olympics. The whole thing had been set in motion, and bigger teams had taken hold of the reigns. After Teucer officially applied to compete
against able bodied athletes, the whole thing had snowballed. And there was Hermes Information Technology, right in the middle of it all, logo slapped on every surface imaginable.

  Ten years from now, people wouldn’t even think twice about the new normal. But it had all started here, in this penthouse, as an idea. Just a firing of a few synapses, a couple of intellects rubbing together.

  She rubbed her augmented knee. “If a guy with a bionic arm grabs your butt, is it inappropriate?” she wondered, staring out the window.

  “Are you high?”

  “High on endorphins. No really, humour me on this. You wouldn’t think it inappropriate if someone touched you with his insulin pump or his glasses or his walking cane, right?”

  “Does he have sensory input from his fingertips?”

  “What? Dunno, yeah sure, he does.”

  “Then yes, it’s definitely inappropriate sexual harassment. A cyberlimb like a hand is considered a replacement of the missing hand. Even if it were an archaic prosthetic with no electronics, it’d still carry the same meaning. Touching someone with it should be the equivalent of touching with a fleshy hand as normal, with all the implications and social norms it carries.”

  “Huh,” she mumbled, back in her thoughts.

  “I’m so glad we’re having these conversations,” he said sarcastically.

  She nodded but clearly her mind was elsewhere.

  Chapter 51: Teucer @ 2.7 nhs

  Teucer pulled the bowstring.

  His focus narrowed to a point. There was nothing between him and the target. The bow was an extension of his being, just another limb that he could attach and let go. Just like his arms.

  He let the arrow fly.

  He could see it arc and fly to the little yellow space on the target.

  10 points.

  He let the bow loose from his grip and it hang from his strap, then spun and pointed downwards.

  Now he could wait for his opponent.

  A Russian. Non-disabled. Teucer couldn’t help but grin. He must have looked menacing, but in truth he respected his opponent far too much.

  An Olympian. Competing with him, the disabled one.

  On the same level of competence, for all the world to see.

  Teucer glanced at his opponent’s shot.

  10 points. Naturally. That put them both at 20 points, and with one shot left for each. Just a tug on the bowstring.

  He pulled another arrow, aimed with his instinct alone and fired on the target, once again stripping everything around him from his mind.

  10 points. 30 was the maximum total, and he had just achieved it.

  His Russian friend sweating. He needed a perfect shot himself just to get a tie. The tie was judged with the number of inner 10s, which was an even smaller circle on the inside of the yellow 10 for those exact occasions. Teucer had scored 2 inner 10s from his three 10s, and the Russian had scored one inner 10 so far.

  Teucer looked around at his townsfolk. They had turned the place orange and red, flying la Rojigualda proudly. His grandma, his neighbour, his high-school sweetheart, his baker, his plumber, his English teacher, they were all there to support him.

  He was so touched by them. He teared up.

  He turned back to his Russian friend. He was in place, but still hesitating. For the first time, he was using up all of the forty seconds each of them had for each shot.

  “Don’t think about it,” he told him in English.

  The Russian glanced at him. “What are you doing, trying to distract me?” he said with a thick accent. His coach was pissed off, ready to call on the refs.

  “No, my friend. Just let the arrow fly. This shot is no different than the thousands you’ve fired already.”

  The Russian raised his bow. A held breath. Then release.

  10 points. An inner one, too.

  “Yes!” Teucer exclaimed and cheered, his cyberarms high.

  The Russian looked at him with a curious frown. “Why are you happy for the tie?”

  Teucer shook his arm firmly, smiling. “Because, my friend, I get to play you at your best. Now we go to the shoot-off to see who gets the gold.”

  The Russian bowed his head. “I can hardly wait, my friend.”

  Teucer took his spot again, waiting for the judges to call the tie and the shoot-off.

  His dream has just come true.

  Praise Hermes for that.

  Chapter 52: Gregoris @ 3.2x nhs

  He found her unconscious on the floor to her office. She hadn’t replied to his texts for over an hour and he was getting worried, so he ordered the building’s AI to locate her.

  It was late at night, but Greg was no stranger to overnight work sessions. In fact, it was he who had taught her how to work.

  She was on the floor. He picked her up, she had gotten heavier lately but was still petite to begin with, and carried her down to the infirmary. They flew them both to the hospital.

  “It’s your fault,” the woman screamed at Greg and then fell into his arms, crying. Greg could see where Galene had taken her attitude from.

  “This is the worst situation for us to meet in, madam. I’m so sorry this happened.”

  Gal’s mother sobbed and kept saying, “Not this again. Not again.”

  Hours later, Natalie comforted Gal’s mother in the waiting room. Greg remained silent.

  His Muse came with a doctor. The three of them surrounded the man, waiting for the news of Gal’s condition. “It was a stroke. I’m afraid the chances of her ever waking up are minimal. We have her on life support, but…”

  Her mother sagged on the chair.

  “The foetus, I’m afraid, was too young to survive the shock. If it were at a later stage in the pregnancy, we would have some options, but now, as it is, there are none.”

  The words thudded in Greg’s ears like heavy taps. “What do you mean?”

  “In the minor chance she would wake up, we’re talking serious memory loss, minimal control over the body, hands… It won’t be pretty.”

  “But you have to try.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “What do you mean, not?” Greg yelled and grabbed the man.

  Mel went between them and pulled Greg away. “Greg, you have to understand, Galene had a DNR in place.”

  He squinted, unable to focus on her face and the words. “What? Why?”

  “A Do-Not-Resuscitate. Do you realise what that means?”

  He sat down and held his head. “They won’t keep her on life-support.”

  “It’s her wish.”

  He shook his head. “No. There is no way she’d feel that way after us, after the baby…”

  “I disagree,” Melpomene said.

  Gregoris stood up. “Get me Hermes on the phone.”

  Mel tsked. “Greg, please.”

  “Now, Mel! I’m cashing in all the chips, every favour, every good standing I have amassed all these years. Get him on the phone for me, now!”

  Chapter 53: Gregoris @ 1.9x nhs

  Greg kept rereading the DNR order on a tablet. He hadn’t slept since it happened.

  He pleaded. He vowed his life to Hermes, twice over. Nothing could be done, the DNR was ironclad. She was well of mind when she wrote it at eighteen.

  Eighteen! Greg laughed hysterically. Deciding on your life at such a young age. What a ridiculous thing.

  He read the DNR order. She had a few files attached.

  There was a video to her mom. She watched it across the room, and her reaction couldn’t have been anything but the breakdown Greg witnessed.

  And there was another attachment, available now that the lawyer had activated the DNR order.

  Galene appeared, from before he ever met her, younger, if that was even possible.

  “Video to whoever I may love.

  This file is sent on a dead-woman’s switch. If I fail to stop it with a password, it gets sent automatically. It means I’m dead, or worse, incapacitated.

  I don’t know your name but if
you are on the receiving end, this one’s definitely meant for you.

  I’m filming this at the age of 18, but I know that it will be the same for me no matter how many years pass by. This is for you, future loved one, whom I haven’t even met yet at this point. I know myself, and I know that I never want to go through what my father has gone through. So I have a DNR order on me. In case something bad happens, of course I want the doctors to try and heal me, I’m neither crazy nor suicidal. But if all hope is lost, I don’t want to become like my dad, a living-dead person on a gurney with machines pumping blood in my veins and air in my lungs.

  In that case, I wish to pull the plug. And I need you to respect that. No blaming yourself.

  That’s all.

  Oh, and in case I’ve been a jerk like I always am and I haven’t said it enough, here it is: I love you.”

  Greg broke down.

  Losing Galene, losing the baby. It was too much.

  He pulled the plug on the love of his life and then flew straight to Japan.

  Chapter 54: Melpomene @ 107x nhs

  Melpomene walked down the lab corridor. She inspected the wombs and checked the readouts. Everything was nominal.

  The door opened, and a young man came in, wearing a decontaminated suit.

  “Whoo, these are not comfy,” he exclaimed. “How do people work in them all day?”

  “Hermes, you understand it is necessary. I have been decontaminated thoroughly, but it wouldn’t be pleasant on a human.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Show me around. Where are the babies?” He looked around the lab. “Eww. Okay, that’s explicit. I didn’t expect that. What am I even looking at here?”

  “The Extracorporeal System for Physiologic Foetal Support.”

  “Artificial wombs.”

  “Artificial wombs,” Melpomene agreed. “The baby is kept in this transparent Closed Biobag system. It is linked through an Umbilical Artery and Vein to the vascular interface and the oxygenator circuit.”