The GOD Box (12 page)

May came
by and Jonathan complained that he’d been here helping forever, even though it had legitimately only been two minutes, so May took a turn giving Gabe his water. She sat congenially in front of him, resting her arms on her knees and started the most productive conversation they’d had yet.

“Look,” she began, “we don’t want political upheaval, or radical, liberal change. We don’t want to start our own colony, or rally the economy.”

“Not even a poem about social injustice?” Gabe smirked and rolled his eyes – which hurt because he had an awful headache.

“
Heaven forbid.” She said and even smiled, “We won’t know what is even possible, until we gain a decent amount of knowledge, let alone can we decipher what we want without the same.”

Gabe thought for a
second, why did she use the word ‘heaven’? Did she know what it meant? Knowing what he wanted to say, but wasn’t sure it was the smartest thing, he was weighing it in his mind while he looked at this girl young enough to be his granddaughter if he’d had one (come to think of it, he probably had had one, somewhere). She was a brunette, and beautiful, but nothing about her was soft, nor delicate except perhaps her eyes which were decidedly a dark green-blue. She had a wide smile and she looked you in the eyes without hesitation. Most of the time she was comfortably still, and, without brooding, let off an unrestrained and poignant calm which was neither happy nor sad - but contented. He decided to ignore her use of the word.

Her ignorance was his bliss.

Gabe told her plainly that it was likely she had enough information to know what works and what doesn’t, what makes one happy and what doesn’t
. Those things are simple, unless you’re trying to instill them in the masses. He also confided that he could hardly imagine that they didn’t have some theories regarding society and what needs to happen.

She admitted in return that there were plenty of theories, but the how to implement individually and the
‘why’ seemed to need some extra clarification. Along with that, a better background of the possible consequences would let them rearrange their theories. Still, Gabe said she probably knew enough. 

However, when they paused the conversation
Gabe nodded and shrugged
. No political upheaval?
Gabe was so disappointed. The unfortunate thing was that it
was
the scientific plan to be biased coming into the world. The religionists, and philanthropists and even the philosophers were all for letting things happen as they happen, to force as little as possible.

May squinted at him now, trying to read his thoughts,

“Why is everything dying?”

Gabe pursed his wrinkly, dry lips. He didn’t want to answer that question. Had he been stupid enough to hope they didn’t notice?

“That’s one of the biggest taboos right now, and we need to know if it would be beneficial to relocate. Politician’s avoid it, but it’s on everyone’s mind. That’s why Gretchen’s son is out doing research.” She elaborated.

Gabe imagined he’d have to tell her sometime, but to admit they destroyed it was painful, and to admit they had a way to fix it was putting themselves in more trouble then they wanted to be in at the moment. Everyone would want it before they were ready to give it.
That would make this time like every other time; a brawl. They had to test the waters first, so to speak.

Then, he lied through his teeth, “Hopefully we’ll figure it out while we’re here.”

With a groan he tried to move himself up the wall. His head still hurt. Jonathan came back and offered him pain medication. “Don’t offer me that crap” was Gabe’s reply. Jonathan knew better. Tempting Gabe was what he was doing. Irritating, fat, twit. Jonathan smirked. That smirk was so wickedly far from a genuine smile it made even Gabe cringe. He lowered himself to the floor again.

May was still glowering at him.
He could tell that she could tell he was lying.

“We need to talk. Now.” Jonathan said.

Yeah right… as if May would leave them alone. She caught a glance from him and to his surprise she stood up after a moment of comprehension. “Just don’t go anywhere.” She said and walked away. He heard her footsteps go all the way down the hall and open a door full of noise and then all sounds disappeared. Jonathan looked back around the corner checking the coast was clear. He walked around the room and looked behind everything big enough to hide a human being.

“What the
hell
happened last time?” Jonathan begged, turning from the last wooden crate in the far corner.

Gabe was confused, “You know what happened last time.”

“Yes, but what happened last time that affected this time?”

“We knew who was going
to be left, the friggin nut cases that went off in search of the nature god from the mountain.”

Normally
, what they would have hoped for was enough time to select a specific group of people… ones they felt were prepared, healthy, and mostly unbiased that they could leave supplies with – barely enough for three days and with no suspicion that it was even their gift of life. Then, simply enough, they send the remedy into the ground nearest the main water source . It’s incredibly potent, though, so anywhere will really work. The remedy stays active in the ground water for three days. Then between the fighting for food and the poison most of them die. Fast decomposition was the main benefit of the poison; mind and body. That way, when people start excavating the land, they find little to nothing and assume what they found was an animal carcass. The decomposition was mental and emotional as well. The mind and senses begin to desensitize and become numb… the transition is mostly painless except for those who had the capacity to understand what was happening at first – fear… that was the most painful part. Until, of course, you forget enough to know to fear.

After that, it was mostly easy… destroy the towns with fire and explosives – though that didn’t always happen for one reason or another. Both the first and second time the restarts worked as anticipated.

Last time wasn’t so smooth. Gabe folded his brow and his arms and closed his eyes. With a syringe full of disease, and their DNA-bot they were beat to death as they tried to run from the town.

“They beat us to death.
Animals! That was hell. That was hell.”

“Well
you
pulled out the gun, you ass.” Jonathan berated.

…

The third time, when they were cloned, they were killed before they could start over. Because of that, the expansion of cities was more than they expected when they came back for a fourth time. Strategically, they inflicted the diseases in all of the cities and were prepared to do the same in the last city when word came to the men who had helped them that an unknown disease was spreading across their own city – the one that was supposed to be safe. In a panic, when he saw the group coming, Gabe pulled out the gun and shot one of them. While fists were coming at their faces and Gabe started to realize he was going to die right then and there, he slammed the syringe in the dirt in the town square and pressed down to release the liquid quickly, but someone slammed their foot on his hand, broke his hand, and the syringe. Jonathan was doing a better job of fighting them off and before the mob even came around the corner, Jonathan took blood from the back of Gabe’s arm, then from his own, put it in the robot which zoomed at five-hundred miles an hour back to the cave where it would settle in its spot until the time someone else would find them and their DNA would be used to make clones of themselves.

…

“Okay, well we have to figure out why they aren’t all nut jobs then.” Jonathan concluded.

“I’
m not sure… though I’d imagine there’s a residue of religious nuts somewhere, we just need to find them. I assume the idea was just insubstantial. It couldn’t hold the devotion of enough people, especially if they went back and found everyone dead.”

That brought up an important
question… has anyone gone back? Did they know about the other cities?

“Could’ve just passed it off as a punishment for the wicked, and they few righteous remain.” Jonathan
said mock – serious, rolling his eyes.

“Problem that I think we face is that we don’t know what shape it’s taken. They may never mention anything recognizable to us as worsh
ip, but they may have it somewhere.”

Jonathan disagreed and felt from their probing questions up till now that they would have had some hint of belief in divinity. Gabe hoped it was true and knew they needed to be initiated into the city
so that they could make some determinations about the people.

So how would they
go about getting introduced to society? Time to go be social and find that out. Gabe was learning to hate being social.

Jonathan d
idn’t offer Gabe a hand up, and Gabe wouldn’t have taken it anyway. He shifted himself up the wall with his hands. Feeling unsteady and slow he gripped onto the wall and started making his way around the corner toward the door May left through earlier. The cabin was made of untreated tree trunks. It was only as big as it needed to be. Apparently there were three rooms, one for Mr. and Mrs. Innkeeper, this room he slept in last night with everyone, and the room to his left that they were heading toward – a kitchen. Nothing was bigger than it needed to be. There were no bathrooms or showers.

Despite his distaste for lack of hygiene, he noted it as a good sign that they didn’t build for excess, comfort and pleasure. They built for needs.
Perfect
.

Gabe was distracted
, revisiting the last few days of information in his mind.
They didn’t know what war was
.
Or, didn’t recognize the word even if they got the concept. That still astounded him. Whatever…
they were a group of little jungle-raised freaks who were laughing hysterically when they opened the door. Happy enough bunch, but probably at Gabe’s and Jonathan’s expense. But there was no awkward quieting of the laughter when they walked in. A few looked up, but comfortably maintained their conversation. Dane saw them sit and said,

“Foods over there.”

Not like it was easy getting up and down as an old man all the time. Couldn’t have said it as they walked in? Gabe didn’t hide his brooding as he hunched over, glaring at Dane, then pushed himself up off the table slowly. Tomato soup.
Hmm
. Rolls, bread? Half of his bowl gone before he got back to the table, he turned around and got more. Back at the table Gabe eaves dropped and glowered, making no one else uncomfortable as he hoped, while he continued making his mental observations.

It was actually Miek who was the subject of their humor… but he seemed to enjoy it. Least ways, it wasn’t hurting his feelings. He was scrawny and young, or behaved young, but it was possible that he was just as old as the rest of them.

Actually, the more Gabe looked at the kid, the more haggard and old he seemed. On first sight, his childlike expressions and humor could deceive anyone. However, there were even quite a few visible scars around his arms and neck. Licks of skin… like a whip. For some reason Gabe found that his characteristics matched with someone who’d been abused… somehow it all fit. Perhaps it was a cover for the pain… but maybe it was a carefree attitude that came from ultimate freedom. The latter seemed truer. How very genuinely happy and humored he was. Gabe thought. Maybe he and Jonathan really had no business here.

But, if Miek
was being whipped somewhere… there was pain and adversity; a degree of inequality. Not that Gabe was an idealist and thought that all pain could be done away...

Miek’
s smile was broad and showed one missing tooth and some crooked ones. When he smiled the skin on his cheeks formed into defining wrinkles like parentheses from his nose to his chin. Dark brown hair, dull blue eyes that wrinkled at the corners when he broke into that identifying smile. His height was about six foot, four inches. His thinness made the appearance of being taller. In his walk was a little stoop at the shoulders, barely noticeable, but there, as though it was a bad habit he was trying to fix.

One day, Gabe would know the rest of these stories.
Hopefully.
Miek caught him looking straight at him and Gabe came out of his daze. Maybe he didn’t care too much about being tactful…
“Sorry,” he began, “I was just looking at those interesting scars you’ve got… do they come with a good story?”

May coughed a little on something she was swallowing, “That depends what you mean by a good story.” She leaned out from behind a few of the bo
ys and gave Gabe a look, making it clear that she thought he had been deliberately untactful.

“It does.”
Miek said before Gabe could answer. “If by good story you mean overcoming lots of pain… yeah, I suppose it’s good.” He paused a little, wondering if Gabe was really going to wait for him to explain. “I’m an orphan and I therefore had no means of income as a child. I became a thief and paid for every bit of bread I stole… as well as every bit of bread stolen by any orphan in all ages of history. Or at least it felt that way.” He finished.

Gabe nodded, “So how’d you get mixed up in this lot?”