The Individuality Gene

by G Sauvé

  “Thank you,” says Kara, putting an end to the demonstration. “For everything.”

  “You’re welcome,” says Kidd.

  I also thank our friend for his help. Only Jonn remains silent, which makes the role Kidd played in getting us reinstated that much more evident. We remain silent for a while before the hulking soldier can’t handle it anymore.

  “We should get going,” he says.

  Kara nods.

  I activate Kidd’s tracker and twist the triangles that adorn my mother’s ring. A portal sizzles to life, the white electricity that crackles at its perimeter casting creepy shadows on the walls. I stare at it for a moment before turning to my friends.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  Kara nods. Jonn merely steps forward and vanishes into the portal. Kara shakes her head, gives Kidd a farewell hug, and joins her father in the past.

  Only Kidd and I remain. Now that we’re alone, I can’t help asking the question that’s been bugging me for the past few months.

  “Why does Jonn hate you so much?”

  Kidd sighs.

  “Jonn and I have a complicated relationship. I’ll tell you all about it someday, but for now, you should join your friends.”

  He’s right. The portal is flickering. Soon, it will vanish, and there’s no telling what will become of my friends if that happens.

  “Break an arm,” says Kidd as I approach the portal. I chuckle. Kidd has mastered most of the idioms I’ve taught him, but he seems to have a hard time remembering this particular one.

  “I will,” I say as I enter the portal.

  Memory 5

  I emerge from the portal feeling disoriented. My surroundings have changed so drastically it takes me a moment to get my bearings. Where there once stood walls and a ceiling now lies lush greenery. Tall grass stands beneath my feet and tickles my ankles. Trees of varying shapes and sizes stand on either side of me. Some are tall and resplendent. Others are small and scraggly. All are of species unknown to me. A few appear to be glowing, but I chalk it up to the sun’s shining brilliance and continue my investigation.

  A vast bed of flowers lies before me. Standing among the vibrant reds and the effervescent blues are my friends. Kara appears at peace among the blooming flowers, but Jonn sticks out like a sore thumb. He stomps across the floral carpet with the elegance of an overweight rhinoceros.

  “Be careful,” says Kara.

  The grey-haired soldier ignores her and marches on.

  “Hey, guys,” I call out as I make my way toward my friends.

  “What took so long?” asks Kara.

  “I had to talk to Kidd.” I say. “What is this place?”

  “I don’t know, but I think Dad found something.”

  I glance at the grey-haired soldier. He stands immobile, staring at something I can’t see.

  “Let’s join him.”

  We make our way across what remains of the flowerbed. It’s not until we reach the paved expanse that lies beyond that I understand the cause of Jonn’s stunned expression.

  We stand in what appears to be a park. Tall trees with drooping branches and crimson leaves stand by quaint ponds. Sculpted hedges form protective alcoves around the dozens of benches that are scattered throughout the park. Cobblestone paths meander around flowerbeds and dodge clumps of glowing trees. I watch, entranced, as a flock of large birds lands in a deserted patch of grass. The landscape is so serene I don’t notice the people until Jonn points them out.

  “What are they?” he asks.

  “What do you mean?” wonders Kara. “They’re human.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I don’t understand what he means until I stop taking them in as a whole and focus on them as individuals. Some are short and stalky, with wrinkled, ashy skin, gnarled hands, and thick, knotted hair. Many also sport bushy beards. Others are tall and willowy, with skin the colour of tree saplings and long, root-like hair that rustles in the wind. Both types are undeniably strange, yet entrancingly beautiful. They move with the elegance of sprites and blend in with the surrounding landscape as soon as they come to a stop.

  “What’s wrong with them?” asks Jonn.

  “What do you mean?” I wonder.

  “Why are they smiling?”

  “Smiling? What are you…” I begin, but my voice trails off when I realize he’s right. The humanoids are smiling. Every last one of them bears a faint, contented smile.

  “They’re happy,” I say. “Isn’t that good?”

  Jonn shrugs.

  “It’s freaky.”

  I don’t normally agree with Jonn, but he has a point. No one is that happy, no matter how good their life. It’s almost as if—

  “Look,” says Kara. I follow her outstretched finger all the way to the floating sphere that hovers a dozen metres to our right. Roughly the size of a basketball, the shiny black object defies the laws of gravity.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” admits Kara. Jonn merely shrugs.

  We stare at it for a while before a tall humanoid strolls past, and the strange orb moves to intercept her. A hole appears at its center, and a beam of white light emerges. It moves up and down the woman’s body before turning yellow. Satisfied, the sphere, which I now realize is some sort of robot, drifts away. The woman resumes her journey, unaffected by the strange encounter.

  “That was odd,” I mutter.

  My friends nod in agreement.

  I follow the woman’s progress for a while before the sound of a snapping branch catches my attention. I scan the forest behind us, but all I see is a faint shimmer.

  “What are you looking at?” asks Kara.

  “Nothing,” I say, but I continue scanning the forest. It’s not until Jonn speaks that I look away.

  “There are more,” he says.

  He’s right. There are dozens of those strange robots scattered throughout the park. They float around, scanning everyone they encounter.

  “What are they doing?” asks Kara.

  “Who cares?” says Jonn. “Let’s find Avalon and get the drowned out of here.”

  He’s right. The sooner we locate Avalon, the sooner we can go home. I activate the holo tracker, and a green arrow appears above my hand. It swivels right and left for a moment before focusing on a direction. According to the device’s positioning system, Avalon is 1357 steps away.

  “That was easy,” says Jonn.

  “We haven’t caught her yet,” warns Kara.

  She’s right, yet I allow myself to believe things will play out in our favour. Of course, that’s the very moment a powerful scream shatters the calm atmosphere.

  I scan the landscape until I spot a short man with a bushy beard and a prominent gut running from a group of robots. The spheres in question are equipped with two long, tentacle-like arms that undulate through the air. It would be beautiful if it weren’t so alarming.

  The man trips and falls, but scrambles to his feet and keeps going. The smile I suspect once curled his lips is gone, leaving a terrified grimace behind. I don’t know who he is or what he did, but he’s fearful for his life. And for good reason. The herd of robots chasing him grows as the man progresses through the park. Soon, nearly a dozen spheres are pursuing him.

  “Should we help?” asks Kara.

  “It’s none of our business,” says Jonn.

  Kara doesn’t insist, which is odd. Or so I think until I realize the fleeing man is heading straight for us. Each step he takes brings him closer, yet it’s not until he’s a dozen meters away that he notices us.

  “Help…” he begins, but his voice trails off when he trips and slams into the ground.

  The robots are upon him within seconds. They grab him with their tentacles and yank him to his feet. Moments later, he’s being scanned, but instead of turning yellow, the light turns orange. The mere sight of it sends the man into a frenzied panic. He struggles to break free, but the robots are too powerful.

  “Please,” he begs. �
�Don’t hurt me.”

  The robot that scanned him whirs softly as a hole appears in its shell, and a syringe-tipped tentacle emerges.

  “Help me,” begs the man. I don’t understand who he’s speaking to until his gaze lands on me. Our eyes lock, and I sense his terror.

  “We have to help him,” says Kara.

  “We can’t,” says Jonn. “This doesn’t concern us.”

  Kara doesn’t seem pleased with her father’s judgment, but she remains uninvolved. We stand there and watch as the robot inserts the syringe into the man’s flesh. Nothing happens for a few seconds, then he stops struggling, his terror-stricken expression giving way to a contented smile.

  The robot scans him once more. This time, the light turns yellow. Satisfied, the spheres release the man and retreat, their metallic appendages receding into their spherical bodies.

  “What the drowned just happened?” asks Jonn.

  “I don’t know,” I admit, “but I think we should avoid getting scanned.”

  “That may be a problem,” says Kara.

  “What do you…” I begin, but my voice trails off when I spot the approaching robot.

  “We should go,” says Jonn. He leads into the forest from whence we came, but stops unexpectedly.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  He doesn’t answer. He merely points.

  A second robot has appeared, blocking our retreat. We readjust our course and head off, but another floating sphere emerges from the trees. We turn to our final egress path, only to find two more robots.

  We’re surrounded.

  Jonn unsheathes his knife, but Kara shakes her head.

  “They may not want to harm us,” she says.

  Jonn snorts.

  “You saw what they did do that man. I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on letting them inject me.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I just think we should be diplomatic.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “We let them scan us. If the light turns yellow, they will leave us alone.”

  “And if it turns orange?”

  “Then we fight.”

  “Fine, but be ready.”

  We stand still as the robots converge toward us. Within seconds, we’re surrounded. Three robots detach from the ring and drift forward. Holes appear in their shells and white light blossoms from deep within them. The glow travels up and down my body and changes colour.

  The bad news is it’s not yellow. The good news is it isn’t orange either. It’s red.

  My friends and I glance at each other, but none of us know what it means. That is until a tentacle emerges from the depths of the robots. There are no syringes in sight. Unfortunately, that’s only because the metallic appendages are mounted with guns.

  We’re about to get shot.

  Memory 6

  T his isn’t my first time being held at gunpoint. It is, however, my first encounter with a robotic being. Humans can be talked down, pacified. Machines can’t.

  Things aren’t looking good. I sense Jonn’s muscles stiffening. He’s about to strike, which could either be a very good or a very bad thing. If he succeeds in defeating the robots, he will save our lives. If he fails, he will doom us. I’m debating whether or not to intervene when a voice fills my head.

  Don’t move, it says.

  I glance at my friends.

  “Did you hear that?” I ask.

  They nod.

  “Who do you think it is?”

  “Who cares?” says Jonn. “We’re about to get shot.”

  He’s right. The robots are about to fire.

  “What should we do?” I ask.

  Duck! commands the mysterious voice. Once again, I hear it with my mind, not my ears.

  I do as told, only barely avoiding the blast of energy that blossoms from the barrel of the gun that was, up until moments ago, aimed at my chest. I hit the ground hard, but the pain is negligible.

  I look around and realize my friends are stretched alongside me. They’re both alive. But for how long? I focus on the robots and discover they’re readjusting their aim. It’s only a matter of time before—

  A blast of yellow energy appears out of nowhere and slams into one of the robots, frying it instantly. It shudders for a moment, then clatters to the floor.

  “What the drowned was that?” asks Jonn.

  It was me, says the voice. I scan my surroundings in search of its owner, but all I see is the same shimmer I noticed earlier. I’m about to move on when a blast of yellow light erupts from it and takes out another robot. The remaining spheres fire back, but the shimmer is already gone.

  Silence returns for a moment before the third robot gets destroyed. The remaining two retaliate as best as they can, but they are reduced to shrapnel within seconds.

  And, just like that, my friends and I are safe.

  “Wow!” I mutter as I stand. The bodies of five robots are scattered around us, electrical circuits and detached limbs strewn about the lush carpet of grass. It’s a gruesome sight that’s made all the more horrifying by the fact that I’m grateful for the destruction of the mechanical beings.

  Are you hurt? asks the voice.

  “We’re fine,” I say. I look around and spot the shimmer approaching from the left.

  “Who are you?” asks Jonn, ever the diplomat.

  I’m a friend. Please don’t be afraid.

  “Why would we be afraid?” I ask.

  “I’m not like you.”

  “What are you?” asks Jonn.

  See for yourself.

  The shimmer intensifies until it takes physical form. Where once there was nothing now stands a small creature the likes of which I have never seen. But as foreign as it looks, I have no problem identifying it.

  It’s an alien.

  Memory 7

  I stare at the alien, unsure how to react. Should I be worried or grateful—after all, it saved our lives. But all I end up doing is gawking. Grey, quill-like scales coat most of its slender frame. Smaller, more delicate versions blanket its massive head. Speaking of heads, the being’s large cranium appears to be precariously balanced atop its frail body. Pools of black stand behind its eyelids, drawing me in like a moth to the flame. I manage to tear my gaze from them, but only barely. The final details I notice are the lack of ears, nose and mouth, which explains the telepathy.

  “Thank you for saving us,” says Kara.

  You’re welcome. The voice sounds flat, emotionless, but its deep timbre allows me to identify it as a male.

  “Why did you help us?” asks Jonn.

  The alien stares at him with his big black eyes.

  You needed help, he says matter-of-factly. Do people not help each other where you come from?

  Jonn doesn’t respond. Unaffected by this, the alien focuses on me.

  You must be Will.

  “How do you know my name?”

  The alien smiles. At least, I think he does. His eyes narrow and the scales around them shift, giving the illusion of wrinkles.

  Your friend sent me.

  I grow stiff. I know only one person in this time, and she isn’t my friend.

  “Who?” I ask. “Who sent you?”

  I’m sorry, says the alien. I must go.

  His scales start vibrating, moving back and forth with such intensity they blur together, causing the alien to vanish almost entirely. Only a faint shimmer remains.

  Goodbye, he says.

  “Wait!” I call out, but it’s too late. The shimmer is gone.

  “That was strange,” I say.

  “Who do you think we was referring to?” asks Kara.

  “Probably Avalon.”

  “Speaking of which,” says Jonn, “we should locate her before more of those floating spheres show up.”

  He’s right. I focus on my ring and discover it’s still active. Locating Avalon should be as simple as following the arrow.

  “This way,” I say. I lead my friends into the
open. A few robots patrol the park, but avoiding them is easy. We follow the meandering paths for a while, diving for cover every time a robot comes into sight.

  We keep going until we emerge from the park. Before us stretches a vast city. It’s modern and clean, though there are no vehicles and very few signs of technology. In fact, the robots that patrol the streets are the only pieces of machinery I see.

  The citizens are of the same species as the humanoids we encountered earlier, only I now notice something I failed to take into account. The men are short and wrinkled. The women are tall and delicate. The children’s appearance varies depending on their gender, but they share the same basic characteristics as their adult counterparts. All wear the same type of clothes and bear the same hairstyles—short, curly hair and thick bushy beards for the men, and long gnarled locks of hair for the women. The only thing the two genders have in common is their demeanour. All but the occasional grump go about their business with a faint smile. I would think everyone is happy had I not seen that poor man get injected with what I can only assume is some sort of behaviour altering drug. I feel sorry for them, but I know there’s nothing I can, so I lead my friends through the city, doing my best to avoid the robots that patrol it.

  It takes a while, but we eventually reach our destination. It’s a house. Made of stones and mortar, it looks no different than the hundreds of other dwellings we’ve encountered thus far, yet one look at the holo tracker tells me it’s where we will find Avalon.

  “What’s the plan?” I ask.

  “We use the element of surprise,” says Jonn as he kicks the door in and storms into the dwelling.

  Kara and I exchange an annoyed look before pursuing the grey-haired soldier. The inside of the house is sparsely furnished. A wooden table and three matching chairs stand to our left. The area that stands to the right is bare. Before us, centred between the two doorways that lead to adjacent rooms, is a single chair. On it sits a person.

  It’s not Avalon. It’s me.

  Memory 8

  I stare at myself, unsure how to react. My first thought is that Avalon chose to adopt this appearance to throw us off our game, but there’s something odd about my replica. It’s not until I notice the beard stubble and weary expression that I recognize him.