All the King's Men

by Alex Powell

  It didn’t matter. Seven was watching him only until his interrogators arrived, and then they would find all the information they needed.

  “Do you have a name?”

  “Seven.”

  “That’s not a name. That’s a number. What’s your name?”

  Seven blinked uncomprehendingly. He was Seven, and that was all there was to it. He was the only one from his group to make an agent, so the rest of them, One to Ten, had been terminated, whatever that meant. He worked with Twelve and Seventeen, who were both a year his junior, which was somewhat close.

  “Is my name also a number, then?” The King folded his thick fingers together.

  “They call you the King,” Seven said, inquiringly tilting his head to the side. “This is a most unusual deception. You know who you are, don’t you?”

  The King shrugged blithely. “No.”

  Seven frowned, but he hadn’t been authorized to enter the King’s domain by himself. Then again, at the time those orders were issued, the King hadn’t been awake, and they couldn’t possibly know how strange he was being.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a knock, and Seven immediately got up to answer the door.

  “Oh! That wasn’t there a moment ago.”

  Seven paid him no mind, stepping aside to allow two figures robed in black to enter. They could, of course, have entered at any time they wanted without his letting them in, but it was polite to knock. They stood in front of the King, studying him intently. The King, for his part, was no more alarmed than he was to awake and find himself a prisoner. He curiously watched them right back, and with no sign he knew what was to come.

  “So this is the rebel leader, within our grasp at last,” the Reaper said, leaning down to talk in the other’s ear, a move that was superfluous in the Cerebrum.

  “His outer self looks rather different than this,” the Cat replied, looking the King up and down.

  “Yes, I almost thought they’d made a mistake.”

  “So, what do you have to say for yourself, King? Or will we have to make you speak?” The Reaper drifted to his other side to loom over him.

  “Are you agents of Death?” asked the King. “Only, you look the part.”

  The Reaper chuckled. “Oh, yes. After a fashion. And you, King? What sort of agent are you?”

  “I don’t know. I was hoping Seven could tell me, but so far, all he’s said is that I’m some sort of king. I don’t recall being a king at all, but I suppose he could be right.”

  The two interrogators looked at each other, then turned to Seven.

  “What does he mean by that, Seven?” the Cat hissed.

  “Indeed, do enlighten us, Seven. Tell us. Whatever does the King mean?”

  Seven thought about the situation for a moment, and they allowed him this, waiting on his answer.

  At last, Seven said, “I think there’s something wrong with him.”

  “Wrong with him? What do you mean?” The Reaper closed in on Seven, while the Cat circled around at a greater distance.

  “Either he is a great fool, or he is trying a trick on us. When I spoke to him earlier, he seemed not to know what I was talking about. The things he said were utter nonsense.”

  Seven wasn’t sure what else to say, but now that he thought about it, something odd had happened near the end of the King’s capture. The other rebels had seemed very distressed, but anyone would be distressed after being ambushed in a place they assumed was safe. Maybe there was something more? They had all been forcefully ejected from the domain, and it had been unpleasant, but they had captured the King. That was all that had mattered at the time.

  Perhaps Eighty-Eight had left it out of his report?

  He’d been fighting the Maid at the time, and had been utterly distracted from whatever else was going on. He had managed to shoot her in the shoulder, and he thought he’d shattered her collarbone. Or, one could hope. Before he could check, they’d all been flung out of the domain, so if Eighty-Eight hadn’t told them what had happened, then no one else would have done so.

  If this turned out to be important, Eighty-Eight was going to be in a lot of trouble.

  “Something odd happened at the end. I am not sure what, as I was otherwise occupied, but you may take a look at my memories to discern what you can.”

  They all looked at the King.

  “Can we leave him here?” asked the Cat. “He might try something while we are gone.”

  “We will not be gone. We will still be inside my domain and can return in an instant if he tries something. However, I do not think the rebel leader should be allowed access to my other memories that may reveal vital information, so I would rather he did not come.”

  “Very well.”

  Seven locked the King in the room, taking away all the doors again as he led the Reaper and the Cat further into his head. They were not MindHacks. Seven could tell right away that they were not used to traversing the Cerebrum. They must be intelligence agents from a different sector.

  “This is the memory,” Seven said, concentrating on the sequence of events leading up to the King’s capture. “Please remember that the memory deteriorates, even a few hours after the occurrence. This is what happened to the best of my ability to recall.”

  He played it through for them, watching from an outsider’s perspective as he and the Maid went head-to-head. He zoomed out as much as possible. He knew what happened during his personal fight, but in the periphery, he could see other events.

  There had been five targets altogether, and five agents sent after them. Seven thought that they should have sent more, but the powers that be had thought that even odds were sufficient. In fact, they seemed to think that it didn’t matter if the rest escaped as long as they got the King.

  The Rose had disappeared, melting through the floor like a ghost. No one had gone after her, but it had happened so quickly, he could forgive them.

  The Liberator had a sword, and was fighting Twelve, who only had a wooden staff. Both were intent on their battle.

  The Maid had quickly dispatched two of the agents. She was a much more deadly combatant than any of the agents had given her credit for, able to cause substantial injury to both agents she had taken out.

  The Fox was the one Seven had initially given chase to, but he had run away. The Maid had engaged him here and he had become distracted.

  There it was. Eighty-Eight had the King right here and the Fox, whom he had abandoned in favour of the Maid, had used a basic trick and outsmarted Eighty-Eight. In that moment, several things appeared to happen.

  Twelve became distracted as the Fox knocked out Eighty-Eight and the Liberator ran him through. The King was saying something about his memories and knowing too much. Then, the Brain had appeared at his side, and started gesturing in agitation. Seven hadn’t really heard the conversation, and even rewatching it could not bring back the gaps in his hearing.

  “Delete.”

  The memory stopped then, because he’d been stunned after being thrown out of the domain.

  “What does it mean?” Seven asked as both the interrogators stayed silent.

  “We must check his domain, right away,” the Reaper announced.

  “Yes, yes,” the Cat agreed. “We were promised the information inside the King’s head would provide us with enough evidence to find all of his compatriots. We should be able to bring down his entire organization, but this memory does not bode well.”

  “They know about Dream Dust,” the Reaper added.

  “Yes, well, that was the Liberator, so of course he knows.”

  “If the King knows, and the Maid also knows, then it is possible.”

  “What’s possible?” Seven asked, determined to be in the loop when it came to the investigation.

  “Seven, it is very important that you do not tell anyone else what is happening. However, we also need you and the other agents to try and find the other members of the rebel council. This is important, because what we suspect has ha
ppened may have rendered our leads useless.”

  Seven waited, but inquiringly tilted his head.

  The Cat heaved a sigh. “Seven, we think that what the King has done is erase his memories. If we are right, then it was only possible through our use of Dream Dust, and is therefore our fault. We cannot allow this news to get out.”

  “Yes, indeed, we will all be terminated if that happens.”

  “Now, Seven, we have a mission for you. If you complete it, then we can reward you, but if you fail, we will all be in trouble, and I don’t care to think what will happen to any of us.”

  Seven nodded silently. The reward could be anything, but the only thing that he really wanted was something they could give. “My body,” he said. “The reward.”

  “Yes, of course.” The Reaper waved a robe-covered arm in his direction. “That and more. Anything you want, but first you must accept the mission.”

  The Cat held up his hand. “No, first, we must discover whether what we suspect is true.”

  The King didn’t appear to have even moved from his position on the sofa, and didn’t flinch, even when Seven approached in order to place their foreheads together. They were all going to switch to the King’s domain to see what they could find in his head. If the King knew what was coming, he didn’t show it.

  “Transferring in three, two, one—”

  At first, Seven wasn’t sure it had worked and that they had somehow been booted into the Public domain. But soon after, it became apparent they were indeed inside King’s mind, but there was nothing to see.

  King’s head was a blank, white box. Seven walked around to inspect it for any proof there was anything in there. The walls were smooth, cold to the touch, featureless and flat.

  The King looked around the blank room with little interest. “I liked the other place better,” he remarked, as if he didn’t realize how significant it was.

  Seven tried to create a door, and to his surprise, one popped up immediately, without any resistance. It was up to the domain owner to decide whether or not to allow guests to change things while in their domain. The King just looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged half-heartedly.

  The Reaper and the Cat watched as Seven opened the door, and it led to another blank room. No matter how many doors he opened, he found nothing but blank rooms that all looked exactly the same.

  Finally, they all returned to Seven’s domain, and even the King looked relieved.

  “It must be true then,” the Reaper said, and although Seven could not see his face, he seemed disturbed by what he had seen. “He has erased all of his memories.”

  They sat in silence for a few long minutes, pondering the enormity of what had happened. Their prisoner was an empty shell with only the echoes of knowledge to keep him functional.

  “Seven, if you accept this mission, you must know that failure is not an option.”

  Failure was never an option. Seven had never failed.

  “You were the one who managed to set hands on the Fox, yes?”

  Seven nodded. He’d actually managed to get right inside the Fox’s head, and even if it had been a desolate landscape, it still existed. No matter how good someone was at resisting giving away information, no one could make their head completely empty.

  “We need to track down the rest of the rebels. We have a few contacts to call in, and maybe we can find you a lead, but until then, we need you to go after this Fox character.”

  Seven nodded again.

  “Leave your domain here. We are taking the King to try and find some useful information from him. I’m sure we can extract something from his subconscious.”

  Seven left, not looking behind as the two agents closed in on the King.

  * * * *

  It took Fox a long time to convince anyone to come to another meeting. Everyone was skittish and suspicious, and when Fox invited them to gather in his domain to discuss what to do, no one wanted to attend, not even Joanne.

  “We can’t discuss what we need to here,” Fox pleaded.

  Fox knew more than anyone why they didn’t trust him. It had taken him a long time to open up to his fellow MindHacks, although it was hard to see through his easy-going attitude. They really didn’t know much about one another IRL, and Fox could be anyone.

  He managed, at least, to talk them into meeting in the Public domain. This was another chat room, similar to the first, but had a more comfortable air and was designed mostly in brown and tan. It looked to be a little café, with tiny, round tables and metal chairs that had plump cushions for seats.

  “We can’t go to a Private domain, not when our last position was compromised,” Mrs. Parks said. “We have no idea how they found us, much less how they found King’s physical body.”

  “Yes, there might be a traitor in our midst,” Simon added, glaring at Fox.

  “You think it’s me.”

  “He doesn’t think it’s you!” Joanne shot Simon a quelling glance.

  “Well, someone must think it’s me, because no one wants to hold a meeting in my domain.” Fox crossed his arms and looked at those assembled.

  “We don’t think it’s you specifically, Fox,” Karl tried to assure him. “It could be any one of us, and until we know who it is, we can’t trust anyone.”

  “Who said there had to be a traitor anyway?” Fox argued. “Any major government has the money and the resources to find us if they put enough effort and had the right people looking for us.”

  “It would be a lot easier for them if they did have someone on the inside,” Mrs. Parks pointed out.

  “Well, I can’t prove that it isn’t me,” Fox said, surveying everyone’s set expressions. “I also can’t prove that it’s anyone else here either. What I do know for sure is that a government authority has managed somehow to get King’s body and we need to do something about it.”

  “Why do we have to do something about it?” asked Karl. “As far as I can tell, it’s all over. It’s too much for just the five of us to handle, especially without King to guide us.”

  “How can you say that, Karl?” Joanne gasped. “King is our friend as well as our leader. Now that he’s not here, you are technically our second-in-command and need to take over.”

  “We really should not be talking here,” Simon said, looking around the café to see if anyone had overheard their conversation. “Fox is right. It might be another trap, but if we do not take the chance, we will not be able to recover King.”

  “Also, Karl needs to explain something that happened, near the end of the fight,” Fox shot Simon a grateful glance, but Simon ignored him. “We don’t have to use my domain if you don’t want to.”

  Mrs. Parks said, “Well, if Karl is the one in charge now, it should be his domain.”

  Fox sighed and heard it mirrored by Joanne and Simon. No one really liked going in Karl’s domain because it always had mist and was usually a clearing in the middle of a dense forest. The light had an odd, shifting quality and it made Fox wish there was at least a fire to stand around.

  “Can we please use Fox’s domain?” Simon pleaded. “At least his is always nice.”

  There were a few moments of bickering, but at last everyone agreed that Fox’s domain would be best, even if he wasn’t the leader. Fox, remembering the strange agent’s words, made sure that his domain was extra lovely and not at all as desolate a place as the agent had thought.

  “Paris?” Joanne looked around appreciatively. “It is very detailed. Have you been here a lot, then?”

  They were at the top of the Eiffel Tower at night, just as Fox had thought previously. Simon went up to the edge, perhaps trying to find fault.

  “I have been here, but not really that often,” Fox replied. “I find that if you think of the mind like it really is a computer, you can download surroundings from real life if you stay and concentrate long enough. The reason my memory is so complete is that I think of all the elements around me as separate pieces of data. All the sounds, smells, sigh
ts, etcetera are things to be downloaded, and I take my time with each.”

  “You put a lot of thought into that explanation,” Joanne said, looking impressed.

  “Yes, well, it’s been on my mind lately.”

  He didn’t tell her that he wanted to write a book on memory in the Cerebrum. He hadn’t started it yet, but it was a vague idea, and memory-downloading was one of the things he wanted to cover. Fox was so busy, he never had gotten around to researching it, and now it looked like that project would be put on the back burner.

  Everyone settled down, but no one spoke for a minute or so. It felt odd, because usually no one arrived at the same time, and everyone told each other their news before they even began the meeting. King was also always the one to start them. King, full of charisma and spirit, was the type of man that people could get behind. Poor Karl was all the brains, a proper genius, but he was quiet and usually let King convey his ideas for him.

  Fox nervously fingered the buckle on his wrist and Joanne shot him a quelling look. She hated his nervous habit, and the repetitive motion made her antsy as well.

  Karl coughed. “I guess we have to begin the meeting.”

  Before speaking, Fox made sure everyone was paying attention. “Okay, we all know King was taken, and it’s possible that we were betrayed from within, but I don’t think anyone here would be able to do such a thing.”

  “I do,” Simon said, but left it at that.

  “I’m not so sure, Fox,” Mrs. Parks agreed.

  The two others murmured, not really committing an answer.

  “Well, we could put all of our efforts into investigating who did it,” Fox said, “and it would take a long time, and maybe we would find them, maybe we wouldn’t. There might not even be a traitor. So I say we move past that part and try to recover King.”

  “Fox, no one knows where his body is,” Joanne pointed out. “We don’t even know what country it’s in.”

  “Also, it won’t do much good even if we do find him,” Karl said. “You wanted to know what happened at the end of the fight? He erased his memories, right down to how he takes his coffee.” Karl stopped to watch that news sink in.