The Individuality Gene

by G Sauvé

  I knew not all Kra’lors would agree to the enslavement of the humans, continues A’lara, so I built them a luxurious city. Not only were they still getting paid for being employees of the Ros’tal Corporation, but they now lived a life of ease and luxury. Within years, all but a select few had forgotten about the old ways. As for the humans, tricking them was easy. They felt so indebted to us for building the housing facilities that protected them from the cold they willingly agreed to mine ‘tals. By the time they realized they were being trained as future slaves, it was already too late. The sentinels came in and rounded them up. The rest is history.

  I take a moment to wrap my head around what I just learned. A’lara isn’t merely deranged. She’s psychopathic. I can only think of one other person who would go to such lengths to get what she wants.

  Avalon.

  “You don’t… have to… do this,” I croak, my restricted air supply making it impossible to speak in complete sentences.

  It’s already done, says A’lara. All that remains now is to watch you die.

  She clenches her fist, and the pressure around my throat intensifies. Though there’s nothing there, I can feel her fingers digging into my neck. I start to choke. My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. My head is pounding. A loud buzzing fills my ears. Soon, the world will fade to black, and I will cease to exist.

  The torture of asphyxiation persists for a moment before the invisible force holding me up releases me. I collapse, panting and wheezing. My vision returns, and the sound of laughter fills my mind.

  I have reconsidered. I won’t kill you. Not until you watch your precious humans die.

  I look at the screen as soon as my eyes have regained their ability to focus. The humans have just under thirteen minutes to live.

  I must stop the self-destruct sequence.

  I try to stand, but my legs are too weak to support me.

  Dammit! I need to regain my strength, and the only way to ensure that happens is to keep A’lara busy.

  “Will the destruction of the sentinels kill all the humans?”

  A’lara nods.

  Every last one.

  “How is killing thousands of innocents supposed to help?”

  Thousands? She laughs. Do you really think there are so few humans left?

  “What do you mean? How many are there?”

  Millions. You didn’t think the facility in which we met was the only one, did you?

  I did. Until now. But then I think of the dozens of skyscrapers that are scattered throughout the underground city, and I realize how blind I have been. There aren’t tens of thousands of humans as I once believed. There are millions, scattered across the globe. Once upon a time, I would have welcomed such a revelation. Now, all I feel is sorrow. Now more than ever, I’m determined to do whatever it takes to put a stop to the destruction of the sentinels.

  I glance at the countdown. Twelve minutes now remain.

  I need to make my move before it’s too late, but I’m still too weak to stand, let alone reach the keyboard in time to interrupt the countdown. I need more time to recover.

  “How did you manage all this on your own?” I ask.

  I didn’t, she admits. I had help.

  “Who?”

  A woman named Avalon.

  Of course. I should have known.

  I never actually met her, says A’lara. Our only contact was via the letter she sent me. It revealed you would be resurfacing after five centuries of hiding and provided me with the exact time and place of your reappearance. She also asked that I help you reach the centre of the Earth. Her goal was to have you think you were saving the humans when, in fact, you were dooming them. I must admit, I was skeptical, but you showed up exactly where she said you would. My initial instinct was to kill you then and there, but I waited so long for my revenge. What difference would a couple of hours make? Not to mention the fact that I could use you to help me bring another one of my projects to fruition.

  “What project?”

  Do you remember the Human Liberation Group?

  I nod, though the mere act of moving my neck causes me to wince.

  They have been a thorn in my side ever since it was first revealed the humans had been enslaved. In the beginning, few were those who believed them, but as the years passed, they garnered more supporters. I tried tarnishing their image them by making them look like terrorists, but—

  “Wait! You detonated the bomb?”

  A’lara nods.

  How else was I supposed to discredit them?

  I can’t believe it. Punishing the humans to get back at me is one thing, but killing innocent Kra’lors is quite another. The more I learn, the more I realize how insane she is. Her obsession has turned her into a psychopath. She will stop at nothing to avenge her father’s death. I’m once again reminded the survival of all humankind—and possibly the Kra’lors—rests on my shoulders. I have to stop the countdown, but I must first come up with a proper plan of attack, and that requires time.

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “What does this have to do with me?”

  A’lara sighs.

  I tried everything to locate the HLG, but they are very secretive. They vanish at the slightest indication of trouble and resurface weeks later in a different part of the city. It soon became obvious the only way to take them down was from within. That’s where you come in.

  We were never meant to be near the bomb when it went off. I instituted that plan weeks ago and forgot all about it until I saw the false propaganda drone. Why do you think I was so adamant we not linger? But you refused to listen, and you nearly died because of it.

  She glares at me.

  But it all worked out in the end. The building on which you landed belonged to a group of Kra’lors who had been trying to overthrow me and take control of the mining operation on Earth. As luck would have it, they were also known man-eaters. All I had to do was let them take you and send a letter to the HLG telling them there was a human in trouble. As expected, they rushed to your rescue. After that, all I had to do was follow them back to their base.

  That explains why the attacking Kra’lors didn’t shoot me. It also proves O’ra and her friends weren’t, in fact, terrorists. I feel guilty for intervening when she tried assaulting one of the soldiers, but what could she possibly have accomplished? She was alone against a dozen heavily-armed soldiers.

  “What about the Kra’lors who kidnapped me?” I ask.

  I had them killed and blamed the HLG.

  I can’t believe it. A’lara is just as bad as Avalon, if not worse. Or so I think until a memory bubbles to the surface of my subconscious and disproves my theory.

  A’lara helped us clone the humans and plan our rebellion. She provided us with glove guns. She even led us to freedom. Why would she do that if she’s evil? It makes no sense. Unless…

  Avalon. She must have manipulated her like she does everyone else. Odds are, A’lara had no clue she was helping the very people who she believed are responsible for her father’s death. I don’t know what Avalon told her to convince her to help, but it doesn’t matter.

  A’lara is evil, and I must do whatever it takes to stop her.

  I glance at the countdown. Ten minutes now remain before the self-destruct sequence is initiated and the humans are killed. While I have yet to fully recover from my near-death experience, I can’t afford to wait any longer. Stopping a countdown mere seconds before a bomb explodes may look cool, but it isn’t practical. The longer I wait, the higher the odds I will fail.

  I leap to my feet, lunge at the keyboard, and press the large button that stands at its centre.

  Nothing happens.

  I try again.

  Still nothing.

  A’lara laughs.

  Did you really think it would be that easy? The countdown can’t be stopped. The humans will die no matter what you do.

  I stagger back and stare at the countdown. Humanity has a little over nine minutes left. Or does it?
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br />   Now that I’m no longer trying to think of a plan, the solution presents itself to me. It’s so simple I hate myself for not thinking of it sooner. But none of that matters now.

  I turn toward A’lara and peer deep into her eyes. They are alive with anger and hate, but deep down, hidden behind the pain and suffering is the child I once met. The young Kra’lor who got mad at me because I brought news of her father’s passing. I could have told her the truth, but I chose not to. I chose to keep R’ha’s sickness a secret, hoping it would help ease the sorrow of his passing. I was wrong.

  “There’s something you should know,” I say. “Something I never told you—or anyone else—about the night your father passed away.”

  A’lara says nothing. She stands perfectly still and stares at me with her big, glistening eyes.

  “Your father lied to you. He wasn’t who you thought he was.”

  A’lara’s eyes narrow. Her hands ball into fists.

  Liar! she silently growls. My father was a great Kra’lor.

  “That’s not what I meant. R’ha was kind and generous. He was—”

  Shut up! You don’t deserve to speak his name. You killed him! YOU KILLED HIM!

  She thrusts her hands forward and once again begins squeezing my throat using her telekinesis. Unlike the last time, my trachea is now fully sealed, and I lose the ability to breathe. I claw at my neck, desperately trying to free myself, but each attempt ends in failure. I watch, powerless, as A’lara squeezes the life out of me.

  Tears fill my eyes, and the world blurs, but I can still see well enough to make out A’lara’s hands dropping to her sides. But the lowering of her physical limbs has no effect on their invisible replicas. They remain around my neck, unyielding in their resolve to see me die.

  I can’t believe how close I came to telling A’lara the truth about her father. But I failed, and now I’m paying the ultimate price. The world grows darker with each passing second. My head is pounding. My extremities have gone numb. My heart is racing, desperately struggling to inject what little remains of my oxygen supply into my bloodstream. It’s hopeless. Soon, the world will fade, and with it everyone I ever cared about. I think of Kara and wonder if perhaps I’ve been too hard on her. Maybe she had a good reason for trying to manipulate me. I also think of Jonn. While I still despise him for lying to me and making my life a living hell, he has taught me a lot. Like Kara, he may have had a good reason for being so secretive. But none of that matters anymore.

  I’m dying.

  My final thought is for my parents. I never met them, yet it was my love for them that fuelled me throughout my journey. And now that it’s coming to a close, we will finally be reunited.

  The last fragments of the world fade away, and I’m left floating in darkness, free of pain and guilt.

  Is this death? I wonder. Moments later, the lack of oxygen causes my brain to shut down.

  Memory 78

  I ’m not dead. The world comes back into focus. The first thing I see is A’lara. Her eyes are closed, and her arms are outstretched on either side of her. Next, I spot dozens of floating objects moving through the air. There are knickknacks and bobbles, as well as gizmos of all shapes and sizes. They zoom around us in concentric circles, moving faster with each passing second. It’s such an odd sight I almost don’t notice the subtle change that has occurred.

  I can breathe.

  My airway remains compressed, but the grip has loosened, and I’m now able to take shallow breaths. It’s not sufficient to allow me to catch my breath, but at least I’m still alive.

  “Why?” I croak, but A’lara doesn’t react. She remains still as a statue as the floating objects gain speed. Faster and faster they spin until a seemingly solid wall appears around us. I float at the center of the resulting chamber, unable to escape. I try speaking to my captor, begging her to set me free, but she remains dead to the world. Or so I think until her eyes fly open.

  She smiles.

  You killed my father. She sounds calm, serene. Now it’s your turn.

  An object emerges from the spinning mass and, defying centrifugal force, slams into my stomach. I start wheezing, what little air I possessed now gone.

  “Please,” I whimper, but that’s all I can muster before another object hits me. The force of the impact nearly knocks me out, but I somehow survive. When the subsequent assaults also fail to finish me off, I come to the conclusion that A’lara is keeping me in a weakened state so I will have no choice but to witness humanity’s downfall. I can no longer see the countdown, but I can tell time is running out.

  I must stop her. But how? I have no weapon. Unless…

  A memory emerges from my subconscious. I watch it unfold, perplexed by its presence. My younger self staggers forward, struggling to cope in the aftermath of the battle between the Kra’lor soldiers and the members of the Human Liberation Group. He looks for a way out, but there are none. Desperate for protection, he nears one of the fallen Kra’lors and crouches by his side. It’s not until he begins removing the glove gun the corpse is wearing that I understand why I’m seeing this.

  I have a weapon.

  My head refuses to budge as a result of the invisible force that encircles my throat, but my hands remain unrestricted. I tuck them behind my back and feel around until I find what I’m looking for.

  The glove gun.

  I reach into my back pocket and pull it out. The glove is small, and putting it on isn’t easy, but I manage it. By then, A’lara’s eyes have closed once more. Taking advantage of this, I expose the weapon and, making sure it’s set to “Max,” aim it at her.

  I have never fired a glove gun before, but I have seen Kara use it often enough to know I must simply uncurl my fingers to fire a blast of yellow energy. Once I do, A’lara’s tyrannical reign will end. Deep down, I know it’s the only way, yet I can’t bring myself to do it without first trying to reason with her.

  “Stop… this,” I groan, each word a struggle.

  A’lara’s eyes flutter open, and her gaze lands on the weapon.

  Never, she says. I won’t stop until my father is avenged.

  “Please,” I beg. I want to tell her the truth, explain how sick R’ha was, but in my current condition, doing so would take too long. The more I delay, the higher the odds she will find a way to disarm me.

  I peer into her eyes. There’s no fear, no regret. Only defiance. She wants me to shoot her, wants me to become the villain she perceives me to be. As much as I hate it, I know it’s the only way.

  I take careful aim and get ready to fire.

  Memory 79

  I stare deep into A’lara’s eyes and will myself to shoot her, but all I see when I look at her is a child who lost her father. It’s not her fault he died. It’s not her fault I lied to her. It’s not her fault she grew up despising humans.

  It’s my fault. I’m to blame for everything that happened to her, as well as everything she has done because of it. Shooting her would make me a monster, but sparing her isn’t an option. Millions of lives hang in the balance. Logic dictates I shoot her and get it over with, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

  I lower the glove gun.

  A’lara cocks her head and stares at me. The floating objects stop spinning. The invisible force releases me. I remain airborne, but my throat no longer feels as though it’s about to collapse. I inhale deeply and sigh in relief.

  Why didn’t you shoot me? she asks.

  My shoulders slump.

  “I couldn’t do it. I’m not a murderer.”

  She stares at me, puzzled.

  You killed my father.

  I shake my head. “I didn’t. He sacrificed himself to save me.”

  A’lara’s eye narrow, and the floating objects start spinning once more.

  You’re a liar.

  “No, I’m not. Your father had a secret, something he never told you or your mother.”

  Hatred burns bright in her eyes, but I can tell she’s willing to listen.
>
  “R’ha was sick,” I say, speaking the words I should have uttered long ago. “He suffered from a terminal illness. He only had a few weeks left to live.”

  A’lara shakes her head, refusing to believe.

  “He didn’t want you to have to watch him die a slow, painful death. That’s why he sacrificed himself. That’s why he gave his life to save me. He was trying to protect you. ”

  You’re lying.

  “You may not remember this,” I say, “but R’ha was selfless. He believed all life was sacred, no matter what it was. He gave his life to protect me, to protect all of humanity.”

  No, croaks A’lara. Tears stream down her cheeks. Her shoulders bounce up and down as sobs shake her body. A crack has appeared in the invisible armour that protects her, and I catch sight of the true A’lara. She’s but a poor, misguided child, driven to commit the worst atrocities by the lies and manipulations of others.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “R’ha was very brave. You should be proud of him.”

  A’lara’s armour shatters. She sinks to her knees, violent sobs shaking her entire body. The objects stop spinning and clatter to the ground. The invisible force releases me, and I fall, landing at the centre of the mess.

  I can’t believe it. It’s over. Well, almost.

  I glance at the countdown. Only seven minutes remain.

  We’re running out of time. I approach A’lara. Her body has grown still, and her head is tilted forward. Her scales quiver, causing part of her to shimmer.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, “but I need your help. How do I stop the countdown?”

  There’s no answer.

  I try again.

  Still nothing.

  I tap her on the shoulder. Nothing happens at first, then the objects rise into the air. They start spinning, moving faster and faster until they have formed a solid wall. Meanwhile, A’lara emerges from her shell of sadness. Her shoulders straighten, and her chest swells. Her head tilts back, revealing rage-filled eyes. By the time I realize my mistake, it’s already too late.