The Individuality Gene

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The Individuality Gene Page 12

by G Sauvé


  “That’s so sad.”

  A’lara nods but says nothing, which gives Kara time to process everything she just learned. And the more she does, the worse she feels. Though she still has no idea why she and her companions’ actions failed to interrupt Avalon’s attempted sabotage, the truth is they played a major role in altering history and leading the humans to their downfall. But deep down, she knows there’s only one true culprit.

  Avalon.

  She must be stopped, she realizes. Now more than ever, she’s determined to do whatever it takes to put an end to her reign of terror. But first, she and her companions must fix their mistake and set history back on course.

  We must free the humans, she decides. Only once they’re allowed to evolve can they become true individuals. But that won’t happen unless they have help.

  Kara glances at A’lara. She could be evil. For all she knows, she could be Avalon. But she can’t afford to alienate her one and only ally.

  “I need your help.”

  Doing what?

  “Freeing the humans.”

  A’lara’s eyes narrow and the scales surrounding her eyes crinkle, indicating she’s smiling.

  Count me in.

  “Really?”

  A’lara nods.

  “It will be dangerous.”

  I don’t care.

  “Why are you so eager to help the humans?” wonders Kara. “You’re not even of their species.”

  It’s true, but my father taught me much before he died. He cared about the humans and often said they ought to be treated as equals. He gave his life to protect them. After his death, my mother and I returned to Kra’lor. She spoke out against the Ros’tal Corporation, but they discredited her. The mining operation was approved, and life went on. My mother eventually forgot about the injustice that had occurred, but I didn’t. I waited until I was old enough then applied for a job at the Ros’tal Corporation. I got it and managed to convince my superiors to recommend me for an off-planet assignment. I got it, and I have been on Earth ever since, doing everything I can to sabotage my employer. In fact, I was attempting to do just that when you interrupted me.

  “Sorry.”

  Don’t blame yourself. Together, we can accomplish great things.

  “Are there others? Human sympathizers, I mean?”

  A’lara shakes her head.

  The Kra’lors who live at the center of the Earth are technically still employees of the Ros’tal Corporation. If the humans are freed, they will be forced to go back to work. It has been so long since this all started, most have forgotten about the humans. All they care about are their cozy, simple lives. It doesn’t matter where the ‘tals come from as long as the supply never stops. You and I are the only ones trying to help the humans.

  “We’re not alone. I have friends.”

  You do? Where?

  “I don’t know,” admits Kara. “We got separated when we first arrived. I haven’t seen them since.”

  What is their gender?

  “They’re both males.”

  Then they are with the other males.

  Of course, thinks Kara. Why didn’t I think of it earlier?

  “Can you free them? Together, we should be able to come up with a strategy to save the humans.”

  I’ll do what I can, says A’lara, but I can’t guarantee I’ll find them.

  “I understand. Thank you.”

  You’re welcome. After a short pause, she adds, You can’t stay here. If we plan to succeed, you must go back.

  “Back?”

  You must let the sentinels capture you.

  “Why?”

  Freeing the humans will take time. You can’t stay here.

  She’s right, yet Kara is reticent to comply with the request. As kind and compassionate as A’lara seems, there’s no telling whether she truly is an ally. She could be Avalon in disguise. Then again, she could be exactly who she claims to be. The thought of alienating the only being capable of reuniting her with her friends is too horrible a thought for Kara to even consider.

  “All right,” she says. “I’ll do it.”

  Don’t worry. You will soon be reunited with your friends.

  Kara nods. Moments later, she’s stepping out of the storage closet. She barely has time to take a step before a large shape appears before her.

  A sentinel.

  No sooner has she recognized it than a sphere of yellow energy erupts from its palm and slams into her body. She convulses for a few seconds, then loses consciousness.

  Memory 23

  I wait for the robot to shoot me, but it lowers its arm, the yellow light that fills its palm flickering into inexistence.

  It was just a warning. One more outburst and I’m toast. Speaking of toast, Jonn lies nearby, unmoving. I hurry to him and press my fingers to his throat. It takes a few seconds, but I eventually sense the throbbing of his heart.

  He’s alive.

  I consider letting him sleep it off, but I suspect the robot won’t allow it, so I shake him.

  Nothing happens.

  I try again, this time with more force.

  Still nothing.

  I grab him and start shaking vigorously.

  Jonn awakes with a high-pitched shriek. It would be funny if it weren’t so terrifying.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Jonn doesn’t answer. He shoves me, sending me tumbling away from him. It’s not until I scramble to my feet and notice him holding his left wrist that I realized I accidentally leaned against it. Now that I think of it, it’s probably what woke him.

  “Sorry,” I say as I approach my friend and offer him a hand. “How bad is it?”

  “It’s fine,” he grunts and slaps my hand away. Using his good wrist, he pries himself off the tunnel floor and looks around. I do the same and discover the three other members of our team are busy gathering our mining supplies. They begin by placing the pickaxes in the wagon, then go about lifting the mining cart containing the half-dozen crystals we unearthed.

  “Is the day over?” I ask, but no one answers.

  We head off. The robot goes first. The rokk follows close behind, pulling the now half-filled wagon. The three humans and I climb aboard, but Jonn refuses. I can’t tell if it’s because he wants to prove he can still handle himself or because he’s worried the bumpy ride will be too painful for his injured wrist to handle. Not wanting him to feel left out, I climb back down and walk alongside him.

  We retreat down the tunnel until we reach an intersection. Two more crossroads stand between us and our destination. The tunnel is identical to the one we left behind but for one small detail. There’s no water behind this stone wall. At least, I hope there isn’t.

  We get back to work. At first, my hits are tentative, but when it becomes clear there’s no danger of flooding, I get back to work in earnest. Jonn, hindered by his injury, is forced to whack away at the stone using a single hand. While less effective, each one of his strikes is easily twice as powerful as mine. And that number doubles again when I begin to tire.

  We keep working for a few hours before a high-pitched trill erupts from the robot. Moments later, my teammates stop working.

  “What’s going on?” asks Jonn.

  I shrug, the mere act of moving my shoulders causing me to wince.

  “Maybe the day’s over.”

  “I doubt it.”

  He’s right. It’s only been a few hours since the start of the workday, and I doubt the humans are permitted to work half days.

  “Maybe it’s lunchtime,” I theorize.

  Jonn smiles.

  “Now that’s a thought. I’m starving.”

  I hadn’t thought of it before, but so am I. I could also go for a tall glass of water. Or lemonade. Or… or…

  I’m too exhausted to fantasize, something that has never happened before. I should be worried, but the truth is I’m too exhausted to care. I just drop to the ground and wait.

  It takes a few minutes, but two men
eventually appear, pushing a food cart. The sight of it lures me to my feet, but my excitement fades when I learn what’s on the menu.

  We are each given a bowl of what I can only describe as meat goop, a piece of stale bread, and a glass of water.

  “Do you have any vegetables?” I ask. “I’m vegetarian.”

  The men give me a blank stare and walk away, pulling the cart behind them.

  “I guess that’s a no on the vegetables,” I say, taking a seat.

  I bite into the bread, but it’s so dry I have to take a gulp of water just to swallow it. The liquid is warm, but it’s so refreshing I down the entire glass in three gulps. While invigorating, it leaves me with the unappealing task of eating the bread without the assistance of a softening agent. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from devouring every last crumb.

  I eye the bowl of meat, but the mere sight of it sickens me. I don’t know where my distaste of meat comes from, but one thing is certain. Never in a million years will that disgusting slop make it past my lips.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” asks Jonn. He has already finished his ration of mystery meat and now eyes mine with relish.

  “I don’t eat meat,” I say. I’ve mentioned it in the past, but I’m not surprised he forgot. It’s not like he cares enough about me to memorize my likes and dislikes.

  “Want to trade?” he asks, offering me his ration of bread.

  I nod and hand over my bowl. I spend the next few minutes munching on the bread, but my throat is so dry I don’t enjoy it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “The bread is dry.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want some meat?”

  I shake my head.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing. It’s delicious.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “It’s meat.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “What kind of meat?”

  Jonn shrugs.

  “It could be anything,” I point out. “For all you know, you’re eating rats.”

  “Maybe.”

  He keeps eating, unaffected by the meat’s unknown origin. Truth be told, I can’t blame him. I’m so hungry I would probably enjoy chewing on an old shoe.

  We keep eating in silence until the men who brought our rations return to retrieve our bowls and glasses. Once they’re gone, our teammates get back to work, but Jonn and I are too exhausted to stand, let alone work. But that quickly changes when the robot aims a glowing palm at us.

  The rest of the day is uneventful. After what feels like a full passing of Nibiru, the robot sounds the alarm indicating the end of the day. I’m so exhausted I can barely stand, but I help my teammates gather our tools and place the mining cart into the wagon.

  We then begin the long journey back to the cavern. Now that the wagon is full, we have no choice but to walk. Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but I’m so worn out the mere act of putting one foot in front of the other is a challenge. Jonn is equally unsteady in his approach, but he refuses to admit it. It’s not until he trips on a stray stone and crumbles that he finally admits he’s tired.

  We eventually reach the end of our small tunnel and enter another, slightly larger one. We do this a few more times before reaching the main tunnel. There, we find dozens of teams heading back toward the cavern. Taking our place in line, we slow our pace and begin the final leg of the journey.

  It takes a while, but we finally reach the cave. After spending a full day in a narrow tunnel, the sight of the vast open space fills me with a sense of relief. I can only imagine how Jonn feels. I glance at him, but he seems to have overcome his fear of confined spaces. Either that or he’s too tired to care.

  My gaze wanders, and I find myself wondering if the vastness of the cavern was intended to trick the humans into thinking they’re free. Not that it matters. It’s not like they will ever taste true freedom.

  “Don’t be so pessimistic,” says Jonn, making me realize I said that last part out loud.

  “Come on,” I say. “They’re doomed, and we both know it.” I’m not usually the defeatist type, but a hard day’s labour has eroded what little optimism I possessed.

  “No,” says my friend. “They’re not doomed. We messed up, but we can fix our mistake. We will fix it.”

  He sounds so sure I almost believe him.

  “Avalon said it was impossible,” I point out.

  Jonn scoffs.

  “What does she know?”

  I can think of at least a dozen times where Avalon’s superior knowledge allowed her to get the upper hand, but I’m too tired to bother voicing them.

  “I don’t know about you,” continues the grey-haired soldier, “but I’m not giving up until we return history to its proper course.”

  Well, I think. That makes one of us.

  We travel a short distance before reaching a row of wagons. Of the dozen carriages that stand before us, three are full to the brim with ros’tal crystals. One is half-full, but its load increases each time a team deposits its day’s profits into it. The sight is so sickening I barely even notice the robots guarding the precious loot.

  People suffered to collect those crystals. They toiled away for endless hours with only a short break for replenishment. They injured themselves. For all I know, some of them died.

  I think back to my conversation with Jonn and realize he’s right. We can’t give up. There has to be a way to fix our mistake, and I’m now more determined than ever to find it.

  Once we add our day’s findings to the growing collection, we continue our journey until we reach a massive pit. Big enough to fit a dozen rokks, the gaping hole vanishes into the darkness. After emptying the wagon’s contents into the pit, we return our equipment to their assigned locales and are given nourishment.

  Food in hand, Jonn and I go about finding a free patch of stone and settle in for our second meal of the day. The bread is just as stale as I remember and the meat equally repulsive. Of course, that doesn’t stop Jonn from ingesting every last morsel.

  “How’s your hand?” I ask as I do my best to make my pitiful water ration last more than a few mouthfuls.

  “It’s fine,” he says, but I can tell he’s lying. I consider insisting, but I’m too exhausted to care. He wants to suffer in silence? That’s fine with me.

  “We should explore,” says Jonn once the meal is done.

  I nod, but neither of us stands. We just sit there until the men start heading toward the forest, dropping their now empty bowls and glasses into large carts that have been placed throughout the cavern. It takes a while, but we finally decide to follow them.

  “We can explore tomorrow,” says Jonn.

  I nod but say nothing. The truth is, tomorrow we will be even more exhausted than we are now, but the thought of exploring makes my knees wobble. It takes all the strength I have just to reach the patch of thick moss Jonn picks for our slumber.

  Jonn takes a seat, retrieves the pendant that lives beneath his t-shirt, opens it, and stares at his wife’s picture. A faint smile curls his lips, but it vanishes as soon as he notices me looking.

  “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

  “Nothing,” I mutter as I avert my gaze. The next time I look, Jonn is sound asleep. I would like nothing more than to join him in slumber, but the truth is my mind is racing. So much has happened in the past day that sleep remains impossible.

  I think of Kara and wonder if I’ll ever see her again. Is she thinking of me? Does she regret her decision to break up with me? I stare at her in my mind’s eye and smile. She’s so beautiful. How I managed to convince her to become my girlfriend is a mystery. But none of that matters now.

  My thoughts turn to Avalon and anger boils within me. But there’s also quite a bit of guilt. How could I have let her manipulate me? My older self was always vague and enigmatic. The fact that he was suddenly so open and honest should have tipped me off. Why didn’t I listen to Jonn?

  What bugs me most is the fact that Avalo
n knew about Grace. How could she have known who she was and what she meant to me? But she did, and she used it to manipulate us into doing her dirty work for her. She could easily have killed the first individual but chose to let us dig our own graves. And now all of humanity is paying for our mistake.

  Why does Avalon hate me so much? I understand why she despises Jonn and Kara, but what have I ever done to her? Sure, I stole her powers, but that was an accident. Not to mention the fact that she tricked me into giving them back. So why is she so obsessed with me? Why can’t she leave me alone? But I guess it doesn’t matter. Avalon must be stopped, and I’m the only one capable of doing it.

  I’m distracted by a man staggering past the small clearing where Jonn and I made our beds. He looks familiar, but it’s not until he turns toward me that I recognize him. He’s one of my teammates. The sight of him fills me with sadness. He seems lost, confused. He keeps going for a while before his strength leaves him and he collapses.

  I look around, but no one else seems to have noticed. Grunting from the effort, I stand and approach the man. His eyes are closed, and wheezing breaths escape his mouth.

  He’s dying.

  I want to help, but there’s nothing I can do, so I sit by his side and hold him. His eyes flutter open. His lips curl into a faint smile. He tries to speak, but his voice is so raspy I can’t make out a single word.

  “Don’t speak,” I say. “Keep your strength.”

  The man shakes his head and tries again. I lean closer and focus on the words.

  “Help me… stand.”

  I shake my head.

  “You should rest.”

  “Stand,” croaks the man as a tear rolls down his cheek.

  I nod.

  I help him up. His legs are shaking, but he seems to want to stand on his own, so I release him. He sways like a branch in the wind but remains upright. Smiling, he focuses on me and smiles.

  “Thank you,” he croaks.

  “You’re welcome,” I say, but the man doesn’t react. His eyes are closed, and he has stopped moving.

 

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