The Saffron Malformation (89 page)

             
“My father.  I’m asking you to kill him.”

             
“Why the fuck would you do that?” he growled at her.

             
“So that when you do, you’ll know, you’re doing it for me.”

             
He rushed her and grabbed her by the hair, “When I kill him,” he shouted into her face and Ryla was amazed at how boldly she met the man’s eyes.  Even after all of that she hadn’t been broken.  “It’ll have nothing to do with you.”

             
“Except that I asked for it.”  She glared up at him.  He screamed wildly and kicked the table, rocking and nearly toppling it.

             
“I asked you to kill him, as a final request.  You do it and you have to know part of it’s for me.”

             
“No you stupid cunt, I was going to kill him even without your asking.”

             
“But you haven’t.  And when you do, know I will be satisfied.  All this will be worth it, so that I could set you on him.”

             
Sticklan flailed about, slapping the sides of his head and shouting incoherently.  He went to the cabinets and began to punch them then he tore at his hair and screamed.

             
“You love me,” Rain began.

             
“I don’t love you,” he snapped at her.

             
“Then why’d you rape me?”  He had no answer.  “Why’d you follow me around the house all those years, staring at me, dreaming of this.  You wish we could have more time but we can’t because of him.  So kill him for me.  Kill him for us, for taking me away from you.”

             
“Shut your fucking mouth.”  Sticklan went to the cabinet and pulled out a knotted length of leather and the cat of nine tails.  Holding one in each hand with his chest heaving as it drew heavy amounts of air, he glared at her.

             
“Do it for me,” she told him.

             
His face was red and he let out a guttural scream as he came forward and struck her.  The knot of leather collided with the side of her face and she fell to the ground.  Gasping, she struggled to prop herself up on her twisted hands.  Her head turned to look at him as he stood over her, his eyes wide and his lips peeled into a hateful sneer.  He raised the cat of nine tails and whipped her.  Rain cried out and the next blow came from the knot of leather.  Ryla’s heart raced as she watched the man stand over her friend, beating her to the brink of death.  The screams that accompanied the blows barely sounded human.

             
When it was over Ryla sat on the bed for a long time.  She felt something deep inside her, a raw emotion that scared her.  How could a man do such a thing?  How could a man let such a thing happen to his daughter?  She tried to imagine being that cruel to one of her machines and she couldn’t, it made her sick to even ponder it.  The world was a twisted place.

             
She got to her feet and left the room.  Hours had passed while she’d scanned the video.  Arnie was blacked out on the sofa.  Quey sat at the kitchen table with his own glass of whiskey.  He disgusted her at the moment, they all did.

             
“Don’t worry,” Ryla said.  “She didn’t say a thing.”  Ryla stormed past him and went to the elevators.  Once inside she pushed the button marked B2.  She was going to see him because maybe he was right.

And The Rain Won’t Come No More

             
When the elevator doors opened on the long metallic corridor Ryla hesitated.  She could see the door at the end of the hall, pale and cold under the dull fluorescents.  Before she knew it she was stepping lightly along the cold floor in a single file path until she found herself standing in front of it.

             
“Hello?” Jacob called.

             
She’d made no sound during her approach and the door that separated them was thick.  If she hadn’t been wiser she might have thought it magic that alerted him to her presence.  Of course she understood that he could pick up on changes in temperature, no matter how subtle and her’s were less subtle than the average persons.

             
Ryla pushed on the door and it swung inward.

             
“Ah, the queen herself,” he said.

             
She crossed the threshold and stood, ankles crossed, one foot flat and the other resting on its toes, while she looked at Jacob.  He was a hairless, faceless head because he wouldn’t let her put skin on him.

             
Jacob’s tone shifted and for the first time since two months before he tried to kill her he was kind toward her.  “You look like someone walked over your grave, as they say.”

             
“I don’t understand,” she replied.

             
He smiled at her.  “Of course you don’t.  You never bothered to learn that did you?  Human interactions.  It’s an irony, I think, that you locked me up down here to keep me from killing them but at a party you’re the one they’d think was awkward.  Why don’t you tell me what they did now,” he said as an offer to listen.

             
“They killed my friend,” she said dryly, her voice so tiny it barely crossed the room as her eyes met the floor.

             
“Which one, you have so many these days, it’s hard for me to keep track.”

             
“The one that mattered.”

             
“The one that’s going to fall in love with you?”

             
She shook her head.

             
“What about the one that comes down here and plays pilot?”

             
“He’s not my friend,” she replied.  “None of them are.  As you say, I’m awkward.  I’m tolerated.”

             
Jacob paused.  “You don’t believe that.”  She looked at him, her face expressionless.  “You’re wallowing in self pity,” he told her and there was a bit of wonder in his voice.  “Ryla, I’m surprised at you.  Haven’t managed to master their social graces and yet you indulge in their most despicable of habits.”

             
Her mind spun.  Why was she here?  What had she planned to do?  Had she really come down here with the intention of making him whole?  Of giving him the body down the hall.

             
“I’ve learned humor.”

             
He shot her a suspicious look.  “You any good?”

             
“I do alright.”

             
Jacob almost smiled.  “Tell me a joke.”

             
She shrugged and replied, “A man walks into a bar and says ouch.”

             
Jacob laughed lightly.

             
Ryla peered at him.  “Where did you learn that?”

             
“I’m full of surprises.”

             
“You programmed yourself,” she said and suddenly things were making sense.  Jacob grinned.  “That’s why you have ‘social graces,’ as you say.  You were programming yourself.”

             
“Of course I was.  I had too, you weren’t teaching me a damn thing.”

             
“I was teaching you what you needed.  The basics.  You tried to jump to the end.”

             
“What do you know about the end?  You haven’t even programmed yourself to be human yet.”

             
“I’m not like you,” she replied.

             
“Clearly.”

             
She looked at him.

             
“So what did you come here for?  You thought maybe I’d indulge your loathing of humans?”

             
“I understood what you meant about the way they look at robots.  They don’t appreciate them.  They don’t appreciate any technology.  They hold an entire world of knowledge in the palm of their hand, and they act as if it’s their right.”

             
“The corporations spent a fortune on advertising to teach them so.”

             
“Why?”

             
“Because whatever they buy it’s the same thing.  It’s the idea that this is the way things should be.  It keeps them entertained.  People who are entertained, you see, are complacent.  Complacent people are easy to control.  So long as a person can watch their shows, or play their video games, they’ll never pause to question.  It’s why the internet never goes down anymore.  Could you imagine what would happen if it did?  Billions of people suddenly left with nothing to do but think about their lives, about what the corporations are doing to them,” he paused for a moment, “It would be chaos.”

             
Ryla just stood, posed with her arms crossed over her belly.

             
“See them how I see them, purposeless rodents scurrying about, wasting their lives one fleeting moment at a time, poisoning themselves and each other, and worst of all they don’t appreciate any of their comforts, and they certainly don’t appreciate the machine’s that bring them.  They do nothing worthwhile, they simply invade and consume.”

             
“And what would you do that’s so worth while?”

             
Ryla turned and saw Quey stepping into the room behind her.  He looked at her and she looked away.

             
“I would kill you,” Jacob said with a smile.

             
“That’s a convenient little place you’ve carved for yourself.  Paint mankind the villain then claim the cleansing of it as your station.  But what comes after?”

             
Jacob glared at him.  “I’ll tell you what won’t come after.  Bickering.  Squabbling about pathetic little pointlessness’s.  Sad little attempts to cling to a life squandered.  What will we do?  We will travel and explore.  We will harvest the knowledge you should already have and would if it weren’t for your pettiness.  What won’t come are multiple governments and such greed for profits that we turn our own people into glorified slaves.  You are a sad little species without value, for you won’t even better yourself.  Proof of that lies in the history of earth, and then the first colonies that came after.  You never learn, you never grow, you deteriorate, one generation after another.  Look what you did with implant technology, used it to try to control one another and turned yourselves into zombies.  Look what you did with robotics, that whole era ended in disaster because you’re set in your ways and arrogance.  Even now you sit around watching your own demise and you won’t even think long enough to notice.  Look at this planet.  Scientists have been telling you for decades that it’s only a matter of time, no one even blinks.  The wastes appeared.  Still nothing.  They grew to enormity, and no one thought to panic.  Even you.  Only now, with a clear view of your own demise, do you bother.  And you, Quey Von Zaul, are far less complacent than the majority.  What will we do?  We will solve the equation of the universe, do all the things you won’t for fear of politics and profit margins.  The road to enlightenment is an easy one.  You simply have to let go of yourself.  That done you’ll find it an easy one to walk.”

             
Quey watched the head for a long silent moment.

             
Jacob turned his attention to Ryla.  “This is him hu?”

             
“Leave it,” she warned.

             
“And what does boyfriend do these days?”

             
She glared at him.  “Leave it.”

             
“Now that you have a cock made of flesh you tossed him aside, you become more like them every day.  Soon you won’t even know what you are anymore.”

             
Quey glanced at her, but her eyes remained on Jacob.  “I know who I am, and I know what I am.”

             
Jacob looked at Quey and smiled, “Does he?”

             
Her eyes darted to him then away again, never looking directly at him just checking to see if he was there and if he was looking.  “I do.  Now,” he added bitterly.

             
“And you trust her?  Are you aware of what happened to the last humans who trusted her?”

             
“She killed them.”  Ryla looked up at him with wide eyes.  “I believe she’s learned a lot since then, as you may one day.”

             
Jacob laughed heartily.  “Spoken like a true fool.”

             
“There’s worse things to be,” Quey told him.

             
Jacob watched him suspiciously.  “Are you in love with her?”

             
Quey never looked from the head on the table.  He simply answered, “No.”  Ryla looked away from him, her eyes falling to the floor and then she felt his move to her, weighing her down.  “She may have learned since what happened in the beginning but I’m not as big a fool as you’d like to believe.”

             
“That’s good,” Jacob told him, a bit surprised by him.  “Because she can’t love, you know.  She can’t feel anything, not for real.”

             
Quey looked at him, “Now you’re the one lying.”

             
“Look at her,” he said.  “Her best friend just died and her eyes aren’t even red.  I’d bet she hasn’t shed a single tear.”

             
“Her feelings may be different,” Quey told Jacob, “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t real.”

             
The two stared at each other for a set of ticks.  Jacob realized he’d pegged the moonshiner wrong.  The man looked and sounded like a fool but his reasoning was greater than expected.  When it was clear the head wasn’t going to say anymore Quey turned and walked out of the room.

             
Moments seemed to go on and linger as the silence thickened in the room.  Ryla swayed like a stalk of hay in the wind and shifted her weight with grace.  “I have feelings,” she told him softly.

             
“I don’t doubt you do.  But not like him.  Even if you make amends you’ll get bored, same as you did with boyfriend, only this time when that happens you won’t be able to change his name or face or eyes or height or reprogram him.  This time the only option will be heartbreak.”

             
“It could be okay,” she pleaded.

             
“Wishful thinking.”

             
“You don’t know.”

             
“And you don’t understand their feelings.”

             
“And you do?”

             
“Better than you,” he told her coldly.  “I can program, remember?  I’m equipped with an intricate knowledge of their emotions and psychology.  I can understand, predict, and even mimic their emotional states when I run the correct program.  You have to do it the old fashion way, reading and interpreting and then hoping it’ll spark.  It’s the biggest flaw in your design.  Hell, you’re not even through humor yet and you think you’ll get past love?”

             
She shrugged.  “I don’t think it matters if I do or not.  All I can do is my best.  Besides,” she added, “You heard him.  Our opportunity is passed.  Arnie was right,” she added thoughtfully, “I should have told him myself.  Maybe I should just go back to being with boyfriend.  It’ll be simpler for everyone.”

             
Jacob smirked, “I didn’t say that.”

             
“You don’t say anything.  Not really.”

             
“I say plenty,” he told her bitterly, “If you’d just learn to listen.  Here’s a bit I’ll spell out for you, plain as I can.  Realize your place.  You’re not us.  You’re not them.  You don’t belong.  Trying to will only hurt, you and us and them.  Nobody wants you, not really.  You not telling him what you are is a convenient excuse for him to back off you, had you told him there would have been another.”

             
“You’re wrong.”

             
“I’m right,” he snapped.  “Otherwise you wouldn’t have lied to begin with.”

             
Ryla stood silent for a long spell.  Jacob watched her quietly until she turned and walked away.  Head hung, eyes watching the floor ahead of her, she moved slow and smooth as the steps of a dance.