"Don't worry, my friend," Doug said, his voice a mock at soothing. "I'm not going to kill you." Marcia continued to cry. In response, Doug added, "I need you. You will test the HUD on the volunteer with the special headset. If it works like you say it does, you'll be perfectly safe."
It took a few moments but Marcia calmed, finding his explanation plausible. As if to reinforce his intention and appease Marcia's nervousness, Doug turned away from her and walked toward the truck. "Come on, " he said after a few steps. He motioned to the truck.
"Which volunteer is it?" Marcia asked, pointing at the tray of the truck.
Doug slowed deliberately. He wants me to catch up with him, Marcia reasoned. I want to stay away from him. That creep. I need to keep distance. But there was nothing she could do. Was she going to stop? No. She was terrified.
When Marcia had caught up they walked, side by side. It was awkward. Uncomfortable. "It's not any of those," Doug said. He waved dismissively. "I'll take you to to it. "
Marcia did not want accompany this monster anywhere. My God. Would she have to sit in the cab of that truck with him? Next to him? Under his control? She was horrified. What game was he playing? Her hands trembled.
As they came closer to the truck, Marcia's attention was diverted to the bound figure sitting on the tray because she felt him staring at her.
"I see you are wondering why he's here," Doug said.
She had not been subtle. She sensed danger in every discovery that Doug made; in everything she gave away. He was too observant. Too in tune.
Marcia had two choices. She could pretend that Doug was wrong, and that she had no interest, or she could acknowledge the truth and bear any consequences. She nodded in acknowledgement. It would have been too risky to do otherwise, she reasoned.
Doug grinned. "He is going to be my new volunteer, " he said. Marcia froze. Not waiting for a response and speaking as if to a crowd, he continued, "That headset has potential, but it needs the right subject."
Marcia viewed the prisoner differently. She felt a deep sorrow for him. She had suspected that he was destined to die, but now it was a lot worse.
Doug trotted away. When he reached the truck, he called out without looking back, "Now that we're all friends, I can take this off." He reached out and untied the gag around the figure's nose and mouth.
Even at a distance Marcia immediately recognised the face. Oh my God. It was Andrew.
Marcia froze. She was overwhelmed with a mix of feelings and uncertainty about whether it was safe to reveal any of them.
Andrew broke down. Marcia wanted to embrace him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Doug observed. His expression was quizzical.
"I bet you know him," Doug said. "Ah, yes. There is some resemblance." Doug laughed. "What a coincidence," he said. "A family reunion."
Was this coincidence?
At that Marcia raced to the truck. When she got there, Doug restrained her. "Look, my friend," he said, "you are better off keeping your distance." He placed a hand on her shoulder. It gave her a cold shiver. "I told you that he's going to be transformed and getting close to him is going to make it more difficult for you when that happens. I will need you to focus, my friend. You're of no use to me if you can't. You can do whatever you want when the task is complete."
"What's going on?" Marcia asked. She was overcome. She couldn't stop herself from questioning Doug.
"He told me," Doug pointed at Andrew. "Who you are. Where you work, my friend. What you do. For what I need it was a happy coincidence. You work at the same company that supplies our headsets; that I called and spoke to Cynthia over the phone. It's destiny." He wore a sardonic grin.
Her pain was planned. She was useful to him but he also wanted her to suffer. He was a twisted evil bastard. Worse than a volunteer because his actions were deliberate. Targeted. Geared towards suffering.
Marcia struggled and he let her free. "Just remember," Doug said, as she climbed into the tray of the truck, "I warned you."
Marcia squeezed Andrew into her embrace. At least he was alive. Not dead. Not yet a volunteer. They both cried in fear and happiness. She wouldn't have to sit in the cab with that monster.
Doug closed the tray, got into the truck and they were on their way to who knows where.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE KIDS HAD stayed well away from R47. They had also kept a good distance from the dead Queen. Sharpie sat fidgeting. The other kids engaged in various activities. Some sat crying whilst being consoled by others.
R47 proceeded to re-engineer the decryption key for the black box. The level of difficulty made it a gradual process. He was pleased that he could do so uninterrupted. It was yet another demonstration of the efficacy of violence. Fear, how I love thee.
He was halfway there. He hoped that marginal efficiency would reduce the remaining time required to finish the job.
But the sound of a truck interrupted his concentration. Doug's truck, he reasoned. Who else? Damn. But did it matter? What could Doug do to him if Doug was in fear of him?
R47's field of vision was limited because he was lying on his back in console mode and couldn't move, other than his eyeballs.
He could see Doug approaching with a package, looking like a smug Santa Claus. Closely behind him, was a woman about forty with dark, straight hair and black-rimmed glasses that looked out of place.
Doug opened his package, which it turned out was nothing but an old newspaper. He handed the unfolded paper to Sharpie. R47 strained to see and glimpsed what appeared to be a stack of raw juicy blood red steaks. But he didn't have to rely on his sight because he recognised the smell. It agitated him to a primal hunger.
"Bye bye Mike," R47 heard Doug whisper.
Yes. R47 could tell that it was human meat. He found it ironic that the kids could eat it, albeit he assumed without knowledge of it, what he most desired. It was cannibalism for them and only pseudo cannibalism for him.
Sharpie brimmed with pride. He held the package up so the others could see. It was like a tribal ritual. "Real meat," he said. "Fresh beef." They reacted like a pack of lions. They chanted as they crowded towards him.
Beef, R47 thought. They had no idea.
Doug stepped away. He turned to the woman with the odd glasses and nodded. It was almost too subtle to notice, but R47 had pinned his eyes on Doug's.
R47 was blindsided. Without warning he found himself wrenched from console mode to full function. He no longer had protection from the black box and he hadn't decoded it yet.
Where was the HUD that was controlling him? Why couldn't he detect it?
He was pinned flat on his back. His arms and legs moved of their own volition. His legs closed together and his arms spread out as if he was nailed to a cross. What was happening? Who was controlling him?
How can I be controlled, he thought? He strained to find the signal. There was none. But, how? Something was controlling him. It must have been a HUD. Why couldn't he find it?
Doug sauntered towards him. There was something else odd. Three volunteers flanked Doug. They were moving in sync with him, one on each side and the third closely in front of him.
It had the hallmarks of a well-thought-out plan. He was in great danger.
Doug closed in. Why couldn't R47 see the signal of a HUD controlling him? He had to intercept it. To unfreeze. To get away.
As Doug closed the distance between them, R47 felt a twitch in his muscles. A sure sign of the black box kicking into action.
If he couldn't find the HUD, he would have to decode the black box. Fast.
As Doug took his next step, R47 shook. He tried to focus on the code. It like was trying to read with voices shouting in the background.
Doug took another few steps and R47 spasmed like he was being tortured with electric shocks. The black box overrode the commands for him to remain still. It was tearing him apart. He caught a glimpse of Doug glancing at the woman and heard her say "It can't keep still when there's a security override. You're
too close." At that he realised she must have been controlling him. But why couldn't he see her HUD?
Doug stood over him. "Hello my friend," he said. "I told you I would be back. You thought you had it all worked out." Doug shook his head and made a clicking sound with his tongue. "I'm going to rip that headset from your head," he said.
Doug sat down next to R47. He stretched his hand to the headset. He gripped it, then tugged at it.
###
Doug wasn't a applying much pressure to the headset on R47's head. He jerked it back and forth playfully. "It's too easy, my friend," Doug said. "The fun will be over too quickly and you owe me a lot of fun." After a pause he said, "Are you wondering what they are doing here?" He motioned to the other volunteers with his eyes. "Well, you can never be too sure, my friend," he said with a grin.
Doug raised a hand. At that the other volunteers moved in a raggedy fashion to R47, one to his legs and the others to each of his arms. They gripped his legs and arms to pin him down. Again, the HUD operator was doing this, R47 surmised.
In a brief time he had worked out how to detect a signal from the mystery HUD, and could now do so, but he recognised that it was encrypted. He hoped it was the same algorithm as the black box. If so, the goal as always was to figure out how to decrypt it.
Without warning, Doug was on his feet. "Grab her, " he called out.
R47 was released from the pain of the black box. He was no longer as proximate to Doug. Without investigating the disturbance, he resumed decrypting the black box. Time was of the essence.
It was seventy percent complete.
In the corner of his eye he could see the woman fleeing with another figure. They were in sync. The other's hands were bound, but he ran, nonetheless. It was hard to make out her face at such an increased distance but he could have sworn that she was no longer wearing her glasses.
Wait a minute, R47 thought. The glasses. It all made sense. The mystery HUD was the glasses. Doug was using her under God knows what threat, and she was trying to escape.
Presuming the HUD was unattended, R47 tried to resume console mode. It worked. The commands were always in sequence.
Back in console mode it was easier to resume his task.
Seventy-five percent complete.
Then something strange happened. A painful blinding flash of white light. He could sense the workings of the headsets attached to the other volunteers. It made sense because he could send signals to a HUD so why not the other way around? Could he issue commands to the other volunteers?
He told them to let him go. They did. He ordered them to step back. It worked.
He heard Doug again. "If you don't get them," Doug said, "I'll never deal with any of you ever again. That'll be the last bit of meat you'll see for the rest of your lives, my friends." He was talking to Sharpie.
R47 knew his time was limited.
###
Doug glanced back at R47. R47 witnessed the quick realisation in Doug's eyes that something was a miss. He must see that the volunteers have released me, R47 realised.
The decryption of the black box was eighty percent complete.
Doug's surprise transformed to white hot anger. "Where the fuck is that HUD?" Doug asked. He turned and sprinted to cover the woman's tracks.
Meanwhile, she and her accomplice were being chased by some of the kids. Although for selfish reasons, she helped me, R47 acknowledged. Her escape was a good distraction.
Eighty-five percent complete.
Why didn't Doug just attack him? After all, he was in console mode. Was Doug afraid of him? If so, the strange HUD had been Doug's crutch. Good.
Ninety percent complete.
R47 saw Doug pick something up. R47 knew that if Doug gained control of him, he would be done for. He would be wrenched out of console mode, Doug would return and the pain inflicted by the black box would be too distracting to enable him to continue. It was by design, albeit not for this circumstance.
There was a glint in Doug's eyes as he lifted the black glasses like a trophy. He stared at R47 wearing a gleeful grin.
Ninety-five percent complete.
Come on, R47 thought. Please let me finish this. He was so close. Sometimes destiny renders 'close' meaningless.
Doug lifted the glasses to his face, resting them on his nose. R47 presumed that seeing the familiar layout and status of each volunteer would have brought back Doug's confidence. He would see R47 too.
For the second time, R47 awoke from console mode. Doug walked back towards him. Doug appeared to be taking his time. Of course, there's no rush in killing me, R47 thought. He'll want to savour it. Every second. It was about domination more than anything. R47 had threatened him and that must have been unforgivable.
Ninety-five percent complete.
R47 sensed something familiar. A spark. There was a charge building in the headset to destroy the black box. Except it would not and he knew it. It would be the end of him.
But how? He wasn't doing it. He was trying to decrypt it, not fry it.
Decryption stuck at ninety-seven percent complete. His attention diverted.
It must be Doug. The only logical explanation. Doug had the HUD. The over-the-top black-rimmed glasses. The HUD had felt different, he remembered, before he hacked it. It was a new model, he surmised capable of triggering electrical and chemical reactions. It would kill him.
The spark was building. Closer to the point of no return.
R47 struggled to concentrate. He was under immense pressure.
Spark to fire to implosion. Close to critical. The stealth program was back, warning him. Stop it, he signalled to the program. Suffocate it.
But the program only warned. It didn't repair. It had only one purpose. Useless.
Ten seconds.
He traced the signal.
Nine.
Situation critical, the program screamed in his mind. He wished he could shut it off. It was a deadly distraction.
Seconds passed. Six.
There had to be another way.
Five.
Maybe he could lift off the headset.
Four.
Impossible. It would also kill him. He hadn't decrypted the black box.
Three.
He prepared to throw the electric charge into Doug. Yes, kill Doug and divert the charge.
Two.
No. The warning program again. The new HUD was protected. The spark could not be deflected.
One.
R47 braced.
The spark ignited.
Wait. Queenie's HUD was still on. He sensed it
With no time to spare, R47 diverted the electric current to the dead Queen's HUD. He heard a crack. He imagined her lifeless body jolting as if resurrected. The dead undead but not a volunteer. There were screams amongst the kids. Good. They all deserved to be a butchery for human meat. Carcasses on hooks he could consume raw at will.
R47 didn't have much time. Doug would regroup and there were too many ways that Doug could kill him. He focussed on the black box.
"Why didn't that work?" Doug yelled. "That's it, my friend. I'm coming to rip that headset off you and stomp your brain to mush."
R47 heard Doug's boots approach, crushing the gravel beneath them. He had to decrypt the black box. Now.
Doug was over him, puffing his rancid breath into R47's face. Doug grabbed R47's headset, gripping it with both hands.
Hacked. One hundred percent complete.
R47 sent a powerful beam of light into Doug's eyes. Doug shrieked.
The world cleared for R47 as if a fog lifted.
"Fuck," he heard Doug shout. He saw Doug clutching his eyes as if they had just been stabbed. "This fucking thing doesn't work," Doug continued, ripping off the glasses as if they were hot coals. After a short time, when he recovered, Doug looked at Sharpie and said, "Get her here."
R47 rose from the ground. He saw that the woman was now a prisoner. They had also recaptured the other figure. The kids were bringing her to Doug
.
R47 worked at a pace. He hacked the headsets of the three volunteers. He decoded their black boxes. Same decryption algorithm. How could the programmers have been so stupid… or lazy (he suspected)? The volunteers were still devoid of any consciousness but it made them more useful. They were his soldiers.
R47 felt more coordinated. He moved forward finding it easier to walk in a straight line. He was quicker too. Even his fingers felt more dextrous.
He sent the volunteers to fetch Doug. One was ahead of the other and, when that volunteer approached, Doug wrestled him to the ground. Seeing the other one not too far behind, Doug stood up without delay.
R47 realised that in this state of hibernated automation the volunteers were no match for Doug. He needed them to be stronger, more primal. He blocked the signal in from the headset in one, leaving it untamed. It became rabid.
Doug's expression burst into alarm. He evaded the wild volunteer by kicking it towards the woman. Without warning it was gnawing on her tricep. She screamed with pain and surprise.
Realising his error, R47 reestablished the headset connection. The volunteer's hunger reflex was incredible but R47 ordered it away. The HUD was still very effective. It removed the volunteer's face from the woman's arm. When it turned its face back into his sight, he noticed it still chewing. When its mouth opened, he could see the bloody muscle inside. Its mask covered its face, but he imagined it with a grimace and a stream of blood travelling down its chin.
Doug raced off to his truck. To fetch his rifle no doubt. R47 had to stop him. Volunteers could take shots to the body but no doubt Doug would aim for their heads.
R47 commanded all three volunteers to attack Doug. He fell in behind them for a quick side mission. He needed to get the meat from Sharpie. He knew reading the signals in his body that it would strengthen him and make him faster. And if Sharpie resisted, then Sharpie could always become the meat he needed. As long as he finished him so he would not turn. No more constraints.
Then he noticed something odd. He had heard that animals could smell fear. Well, he must have been an animal because the fumes of fear fuelled his hunger. It was as if fear added to the flavour.
Evolution Z Page 17
