Idempotency (49 page)

“Sindhu!” Coglin was climbing the stairs of the pulpit to get a better view—his ascent of the twelve stairs was the liveliest he had appeared in days, adrenaline obviously pouring through his dying system. He reached the top and his shouts rose above the choir: “Sindhu! How does it feel, Sindhu? Feels like failure, yes? I should know. My entire life has been nothing but a series of failures, most at the hands of your depraved boss. How fitting that my tribulations should end with Bach’s
St. Matthew’s Passion
. And so shall yours end. This is where you will die, Sindhu. This is where we will all die. I may have failed to save the world, thanks to the cowardly antichrist you follow—” he spit at his feet “—but I will fucking kill you!”

Coglin screamed—a blood-choked, carnal scream—and began to randomly fire shots all around the cathedral.

While Sindhu slowly slid away from the pacing androids, another battle raged beneath the pulpit. Searle picked up Dr. Okafor as gently as he could. Blood had covered his hands where he had been holding the wound shut. This was his chance to leave.

Coglin’s shouts to the androids could not have reached a more maniacal level. “Do not allow Searle to leave with the doctor!”

“Edward, I’m begging you, let me get her out of here, please!” Searle shouted over the crescendo of angelic voices.

One of the androids had quietly stepped up behind Searle. He placed a hand upon Searle’s shoulder—the grip was stifling—and stated calmly, “You are not permitted to leave, Mr. Searle.”

A buzzing near his ear momentarily distracted Reverend Coglin. Flicking his gun-wielding hand across his face produced a projected holographic image of Mr. Kane. The weak man looked more confused then usual. Behind Kane, Coglin could see the rows of yurts of tenting that made up the Laughlin slum. The sight sickened him; God (and him) only knew what those people were doing inside of their sin-infested tents.

“What do you need, Mr. Kane?”

Around the moment that Sindhu was vaulting over pews and confusing androids, Simeon and his team were ducking beneath battered shacks in a similar but less successful effort. Their escape plan had included a specially designed graviCopter capable of high-altitude flight, disguised as a makeshift hut. However, upon nearing the graviCopter, the team had found it swarming with security officers, including the head of NRS security, a Mr. Kane, who was barking out orders faster than his employees could possibly follow them while wiping away the sweat from his short, bald head.

Never one to succumb to poor odds, Simeon was beginning to wonder if he was playing his final hand. He was starting to doubt his recent effectiveness; he had botched the Carkeek Park and the Pismo Beach operations, and now this? Perhaps he had become too careless in his excitement to expose NRS. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but it might be the last.

The group had become splintered in the chaos of the last few minutes. Throughout the slum, people ran screaming as NRS security aggressively rounded up the slum’s residents. An android had shot Grepman with a stasis gun, rendering him momentarily paralyzed. Kristina and the children had resorted to hiding under a makeshift kitchen counter, but Simeon knew their safety would be short-lived. No one was quite certain what had become of Jay-san, though Simeon guessed he was being fitted for some NRS corp award of excellence. Simeon and Nimbus were now left to scamper through cluttered, dusty walkways with no clear plan in place. Simeon’s most trusted allies were sending help, but they were far away, relatively speaking.

Nimbus nearly crashed into Simeon’s back as he came to a halt between a decade’s-old, three-meter-high garbage compactor that was somehow still functioning noisily at this very moment, and a stack of old shipping containers that looked especially out of place in the middle of a desert. He turned and Nimbus instinctively placed her arms on his chest.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Good question.” The trash compactor began to squeal and Simeon squinted from the uncomfortable noise. Louder, he said, “I’m done, Nim. We’re done. There is no getting out of this one. I’m giving myself up.”

“Giving yourself up won’t save us. They’ll still search for us and find us; it won’t be hard.”

“True, but if I stall and you help Kristina, you may be able to hold out until one of our graviCopters gets here. We’ve got to try.” He raised his flaming arm up to her cheek. “We’ve had a good ride, and we both knew this day would come. I love—”

“Fine. I’ll go back to the kids, and take them toward the riverbed—“

“Fine? You’re just going to give me up—just like that? You’re not even going to argue?” Simeon put on his best faux-pained expression.

“Oh, stop it. You know I love you.” She smiled and winked at him, but the wink became a blink to hold back tears. “But you’re right, it’s our best chance. We owe it to Kristina to try, that poor girl. They won’t hurt you— it would raise too many red flags. Right?” He nodded, but neither of them were certain of this. She continued, “Hell, at this point having your story in public may be our best bet. You may go to federal containment, but that’s why we employ lawyers. So, get going.”

“This is why I love you.” His wan expression turned to a brief smile. He turned and ran around the groaning trash compactor.

“God, please let me be right,” she whispered.

Grepman had been caught by a PubSecCorp security team member not two steps outside of the yurt. The fact that he tripped over himself on his way out was partially to blame for his quick capture. Had he acted nonchalantly, he might have sauntered past them, as Kristina and the kids had.

Now bound and laying in the hot desert sun, Grep’s sweat-drenched thoughts strayed only toward Sindhu. He hadn’t been able to help her in the slightest, and at this point, he figured it would take a miracle to ever see her again—in person, at least. Would he ever be able to touch her? And even on the remote chance that they were able to fraternize once more, she would most certainly not forgive him for his role in her failed escape.

Still, he thought begrudgingly, that girl is stubborn.
She’d be high maintenance. If I ever got into a contractual relationship with her, I’d limit it to a year . . . max. Maybe two.

It was around this thought that Grep noticed Simeon walking toward him. He appeared relaxed, not hiding in the least. Grep squirmed and began to make obvious coughing sounds. Simeon glanced in his direction and nodded, but he still kept walking nearer. Grep became convulsive, trying desperately to warn Simeon to run, but Simeon waved him off and walked into the opening where Grep was laying.

Simeon noted several security guards, two androids, and Kane. The opening was a dusty intersection of slum walkways. Several crates were used as benches, and more than a few of the security officers were sitting down. The androids, dressed in immaculate suits, stood rigid, awaiting Kane’s orders.

Simeon sighed and shook his head at the lack of bias for action shown by the PubSecCorp employees. At least the androids had their backs to him—the humans were obviously not paying attention.

“Mr. Kane, I presume?”

“What—“ Kane twirled and nearly slipped at his shock of seeing Simeon emerge from behind a stack of rickety crates. Kane slowly raised his stasis rifle and, as if mirroring the action, Simeon slowly raised his arms, causing his shirtsleeves to fall down to his round shoulders, displaying the lightly-flicking flame aniToo wrapping around his bicep. His eyes began to flicker as well.

“Holy shit,” Kane said quickly, then slowly: “
Ho-lee she-it
. Simeon of SOP.
The
Simeon!”

Kane recognized him immediately, though he had never seen a picture of the man—the arm, the long blond hair, the stocky build, the animated tattoo—Simeon’s identity was wholly obvious.

Kane nodded and two burly security officers rushed up, grabbed Simeon, and immediately placed his hands in electrified restraining wire that glowed a soft red hue.

“Call off your dogs, Kane, and I’ll cooperate.”

Kane laughed. “You’re hardly in a position to make demands.” He eyed Simeon suspiciously, half-expecting some kind of trap.

“No trap,” Simeon replied, reading Kane’s mind. “Tell your boss I’ll work with him. I’ll cooperate. Just call off your security. There are women—innocent people here—children. Let them go about their day; they don’t need to be a part of this.”

Kane seemed to hesitate.

“Just call your boss—Coglin,” Simeon pleaded. He made a motion with his hands, silently asking Kane to lower his weapon.

Instead, Kane raised it more resolutely, then waved his opposite hand in the air, opening his BUI. A moment later, a crazed vision appeared in front of him. Reverend Coglin’s eyes were spinning wildly atop his ashen-gray face. Suddenly his visage locked onto Kane.

“What do you need, Mr. Kane?” Coglin asked.

“Reverend, Simeon has given himself up. He says he’ll cooperate. Shall I bring him back?”

“No! Kill him now, Kane, and kill anyone he’s with. Kill them all, the entire fucking slum. Set fire to the slum. Burn the fucking place down. Burn it all down with them inside.” Coglin’s voice was nearly incoherent, a hoarse whisper-yell, and blood ran down his chin. “If they want to go to hell so badly, we’ll bring hell to them.”

Kane was startled, and in the course of a few introspective seconds, he began to see Coglin for what he truly was: an insane visionary who had lost his way, if not his mind. Kane’s turn of opinion had been so dramatic that, even as he began replying to Coglin, in his own mind he was asking himself how he could have followed this man so blindly for so long . . . and he wondered when Coglin’s spiral had begun, and his own with it.

“I—I’m not going to kill innocent women and children, Reverend. I can’t do that. I just can’t do it. This is not a Godly course of action. There’s no possible rationalization for this. This is simply not right.”

Coglin appeared shocked at Kane’s recalcitrance, then amused. He laughed—more of a guttural growl, really, as he waved his hands in the air, and just as Kane began wondering what Coglin was doing, the android to his right raised a sleeved arm up to Kane’s neck and gripped tightly.

“I accept your resignation, Mr. Kane.” Coglin clicked off his BUI.

Kane tried to focus and settle his thoughts. If he was to die, he would do so with dignity. He thought a final thought:
Lord, before I pass into heaven, I ask one thing
—

Mr. Kane’s neck ballooned around the android’s hand. His face turned red and he tried in vain to push at the android’s head. Without warning, as if someone had bent a stock of lettuce, a crisp snap rang out through the air, shocking the dozens of horrified onlookers. Kane’s body fell limp to the ground.

Several of Kane’s more loyal security officers dropped their jaws; some yelled out in terror. One of them fired his stasis gun at the android, but it had no effect. The android turned, took two paces, then raised his its hand to Simeon’s throat. He It twirled his its fingers, as if loosening his its robotic knuckles.

“No!”
Chicklet screamed as he bounded from out of nowhere, his Mohawk swaying wildly as he galloped. The security officers watched with dumb expressions as the kid sprinted past them and toward the android. Without turning its head, the android reached its other arm behind its back and fired its stasis gun from a fingertip. The stasis charge smacked Chicklet in the cheek, and the boy stiffened like a plank of wood warped from the elements, then dropped to the ground with a thud. He whimpered, his muscles still flexing uncontrollably.

Mitlee, standing nearby, just out of view with Kristina, began to cry in horror as the android tightened its grip on Simeon. Kristina covered the child’s mouth and backed further into the shadows.

In the recesses of his mind, Simeon processed the sound of Mitlee’s cries. He cared for that child as if she were his own. The thought of not being able to provide for her scared him far more than death. So when a fleeting thought of defeat passed through his head, he supressed it immediately.

Simeon punched the android with the full force of his bulky arm. The android’s grip faltered enough for him to gasp a breath of air—but not enough to allow him to escape. He brought his hand back down upon the android’s face, this time aiming for the eyes. It was ineffective; the android stretched out its arm, not allowing Simeon to reach its face.

The machine’s grip tightened further, and Simeon began to see floating dots of light in his periphery. Vertigo set in as he heard a metallic clang
somewhere in front of him. The android’s grip loosened once more. Simeon’s world spun, again giving way to gravity, and he saw Nimbus smacking the android in the head with a metal tube. The android raised his hand to fire a stasis charge at her, but she brought the full weight of the metal down upon his hand.

An explosion several dwellings away startled everyone, except for the androids. A plume of fire erupted and shot straight into the air. Nimbus flinched and the android pounced. In one quick movement, the android’s left hand knocked the metal out of her grasp then slipped around her neck.

Simeon and Nimbus locked eyes. He reached out to her and found her hand reaching out to him. They squeezed each other as the android began squeezing both their necks.

Had Grepman—still lying helplessly in the dirt just two meters from Simeon—not known better, he would have sworn the android had smiled at this very moment.

After speaking with his ex-head of security, Coglin switched off his BUI and leaned against the railing of the pulpit. His mind held no compunction for the murder he had just orchestrated. Perhaps, decades ago, he might have felt a twinge of remorse. Now, however, in his waning moments of life, he was consumed only with an anger purified through a filter of bitterness. Bitterness toward a God who had never lived up to his end of the bargain. A God full of empty promises and half truths. As these thoughts floated in his decaying mind, the holographic choirs sung with passion:

The world hath judged me with deceit,