| |
“As the Earth Mother is my witness, I vow to avenge the destruction of her physical form. The Emotion Manipulator is her enemy, and thus mine. I will strike them down, man, woman or child. I will strike down all colluders who betray the Earth Mother’s trust. This I promise to you, great Earth Mother, who bred and nurtured me for millennia. We await your rebirth Earth Mother, so that humankind may one day return home.” – Prayer of The Earth Mother Knights.
––––––––
Joshua and Miku stood and walked away from the prayer circle. While Miku idled with the other wives, Joshua confided with the other Earth Mother Knights. The priest congratulated them on their work and blessed them with sprinklings of crushed leaves and flower petals. Once the blessing was over Joshua joined Miku, and in silence they walked The Holy Grounds heading for the nursery enclosure.
Inside, Earth Mother Nurses tended the children, who played in the mud and bushes. Their son Kirill was still a baby and was placed indoors. They proceeded to his crib, and he smiled as Miku reached for him. Like his father, Kirill had bright black beady eyes as intense as they were friendly. Kirill’s complexion complemented his parents contrasting complexions; his smooth baby skin appeared like a bleached brown. Together, the three appeared as a sequential progression in shades. After picking up Kirill they went back outside and headed for the exit.
The grey metallic facades of Paragonia’s skyscrapers clawed above the height of the trees. Outside The Holy Grounds, hordes of hovercraft engulfed the street, as the churchgoers filed out. It was here Joshua and Miku parted ways.
‘Well, the bus is waiting. I hope you enjoyed the ceremony. I don’t really understand why you avoid them so much,’ Joshua said brightly.
‘I actually think I did this time,’ Miku lied. ‘Maybe I’ll join you again next time. Anyway, I should probably get Kirill home.’
‘Right,’ Joshua said. ‘Well... duty calls.’
He kissed Miku politely on the cheek and made his way to the Earth Mother bus, beginning to brood. Temporarily, he pretended he believed Miku; he knew he did not. She often lied to his face.
He reached the bus and walked up the platform to join his colleagues. The bus ascended to Level 5 and followed holographic street alignments which bled up from the ground.
On arrival, The Earth Mother Knights streamed out of the bus, through the hangar, and into the locker rooms. They swapped their prayer robes for tight bodysuits with dangling wires and tubes, then filed out into the armoury. One-by-one they walked into what resembled a giant fridge—The Assembler. They were stamped, and stepped out looking reptilian, layered in metallic scales.
Once armoured, each Knight proceeded to his consultation room for analysis and briefing.
‘Hello Joshua,’ Mohini said. ‘Did your wife enjoy the ceremony?’
‘Yes, she did,’ Joshua replied to the smooth electronic voice.
‘I am still detecting mood instability from you. It is recommended that you seek personal consultation to avoid excessive use of mood stimulants. Also, a friendly reminder: you are still overdue for lung and liver replacement.’
‘Um... thanks Mohini. What are my orders?’
#
Miku did not go home. She waited for Joshua to leave ignoring all the Earth Mother buses beckoning her with metal flaps, knowing they could not take her where she wanted to go—outside the Central City Cube. ‘Where the heretics go,’ she whispered to herself. Kirill slept soundly, sucking his thumb, tiny head rested on her shoulder. She doubted he would wake during her little escapade.
She slipped away, distancing herself from The Holy Grounds, and all the people who knew her as an extension of Joshua Shepard: The EMO Hunter, The EMOlisher, The EMOliminator... or whatever his fan-club was calling him lately. Once a safe distance away she hailed a hovertaxi. The driver ogled her a moment; her porcelain features were so delicate it appeared they might flutter away at the slightest breeze. His staring reminded her of the priests during Earth Mother Church Fundraisers.
Miku announced her destination, and the driver took off.
‘Are you sure you want to go out this far?’ he asked after a while.
‘Yes,’ Miku replied.
‘You know, the Earth Mother Knights are still working on these districts. It may not be safe. I don’t like coming down here and I definitely can’t leave clients here with a clear conscience.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard those rumours,’ Miku said. ‘None of it’s true. The people here are actually quite nice.’ She was quiet for a moment, and then waved her free hand over the side of the hovertaxi, pointing at the holographic street sign. ‘Stop here please.’
The driver descended, and Miku hopped out. She smiled as politely as she could muster, extending her thin lips sideways, but looking like invisible hands forcefully pulled on her cheek muscles.
‘Here you go,’ Miku handed the driver her card.
When the transaction was complete the driver ascended. Miku stood on the corner looking down at Kirill. She caressed his hairless scalp before wandering down the street in search of the correct alley. This was a different part of Paragonia. It had dirt. Miku always wondered where the dirt came from. Did the rebels travel back-and-forth from The Holy Grounds? She imagined a band of would-be insurrectionists sitting in a basement somewhere, generating contraband grit and then painstakingly splattering it throughout the outskirts.
Rebels and EMOs and EMO affiliates. Miku did not quite know what to make of it all. She was just happy to experience subconscious art. She was not even sure if she had come into contact with an EMO, and even if she did, she was not sure whether she would have cared.
Miku made a left, into an alley which had been excavated by ‘freaks’ and ‘vagrants’ and transformed into a bazaar. She minded her own business as she weaved around the people and stalls. The clothing in the outskirts was also different; the people seemed to accessorise and destroy the functionality of their clothing, ripping off different parts of jumpsuits and robes and reattaching them on other sections. Miku had heard this was called ‘fashion’. She could not quite get her head around the concept.
She reached her destination and glided through the door.
‘Hello again,’ the stubby store clerk said. Miku was familiar with the woman but always forgot her name, Clarien, or something. The clerk had torn off pieces of robe to tie up tufts of her hair, making them stick out like spikes. She wore a sleeveless white robe, ripped at the bottom revealing meaty legs.
Miku smiled at her, this time not faking, and made her usual statement, ‘I just want to take a look at the art.’
Miku made her way around the room, staring intensely at the electronic canvases. The screens displayed various depictions of the artists’ subconscious. Some were buoyant, others macabre, and the majority blasphemous. However, showing what should not be shown was a purpose of subconscious art.
One particularly sentimental piece, depicting the reunion of humanity with the Earth Mother, struck a chord in Miku’s heart. She had a strong urge to buy it for Joshua. She knew deep down he would love the concept. She also knew that he would ostentatiously denounce it.
After about an hour, Kirill made a subtle movement in her arms. ‘We should get home,’ she muttered and stepped delicately towards the door.
When she reached it, the clerk yelled to her, ‘Hey wait! We’re doing a subconscious art promotion here. You know, trying to recruit more artists and get more work out. We’re allowing people to volunteer to present their art. With your permission, we’ll present it in the gallery. We have a Soul Digger here that can do it, if you’re new, and don’t have your own equipment. It’s obviously an older model, and we can’t allow you to program it to your art style, but for an older model its output is great.’
Miku stepped back defensively, ‘I... I’m not an artist.’
‘It’s not about that. You don’t need to be,’ the clerk replied. ‘We’re looking for newcomers and the inexperienced. Just try it out. You don’t have to submit the work that comes out. My boss is counting both the amount of work I get and the amount of people I log on the machine, so...’ the woman scrunched her lips, and silently pleaded with Miku.
Miku slid her fingers over Kirill’s little cheeks. ‘Well...’
#
Miku had an uncontrollable ethereal itch as the elevator slid upwards. Kirill was now crying; stirred awake by Miku’s response to her subconscious art. Due to her inexperience the image was sloppy, but it could still be made out. She had stormed out of the store feeling as if her nerves were ballooning and threatening to pop out her skin. She was distraught, and the thought it had planted in her conscious, what a terrible thought to have.
#
Kirill was finally asleep. Miku was still feeling edgy and panicked. How could she have conjured up such an image? She sat on the bed staring at the image and contemplating it deeply. Cloning... death, both were morally reprehensible.
#
‘Finished?’ Miku blurted the words out, too distracted to filter herself.
Joshua rolled off her and lay flat on his back. ‘Uh, yeah, I guess.’
There was a long silence.
When Joshua could no longer handle lying next to the source of his emasculation, he removed the sheets and stood up. ‘I need a smoke.’
Miku lay limp, torturing herself with the imagery of her subconscious art.
Joshua felt his way through the dark, stopping in front of his cigarette dispenser. He rapidly tapped his finger on a protruding button, allowing at least a dozen cigarettes to fall into the catching-bowl and overflow onto the soft carpet. He packed the little cylinders into his hands and moved on to the kitchen. At the fridge, he slapped another button and four beers popped out. He grouped all his poisons into his arms and made for Kirill’s room. Standing over the crib he looked down at Kirill.
‘I’m not that bad, am I? I serve the Earth Mother well. One day I’m sure you will too,’ Joshua murmured to the sleeping boy, and cracked open a beer. ‘It’s an honour to serve her. Don’t tell your mother this, but some days I wish I would die... just so I could meet the Earth Mother. I read about these things the other day. Beaches they were called. There’s sand and ocean. This was quite common on Earth. Just imagine!’
Joshua spoke on about Earth for another hour.
‘Wow! Look at the time. You made me forget I wanted a cigarette. So easy to talk to.’ He caressed Kirill’s chubby cheeks, making sure not to wake him.
‘Well little one... I’m off to play with my traumas and insomnia. Don’t wait up!’
Joshua left for the balcony, collecting more beer along the way. He plonked his belongings onto a vacant chair. Bright city lights blared at him while intrusive electronic billboards sold him dreams. They were everywhere; fixed to skyscrapers and great floating balloons.
“Happiness can only come from serving the Earth Mother.”
“Have you washed your face in petal-water today? Your soul needs a cleansing!”
“Your eternal Beach awaits you in death. Invest in the Church today! Don’t leave your loved ones hanging once you’ve ascended to paradise.”
He sighed and began gulping beer.
#
Joshua had already left for work when Miku woke; he was probably drunk, but his Earth Mother Armour would sober him. Miku paced around the flat, frantic, knowing this was her chance. She had to do it now, while she tasted the fresh blood of the idea—before she could write it off as a grandiose conception of mania. Before the guilt and moral depravity of it could dampen the demented excitement it gave her. The previous day she had seen the cup half-empty, but when she had awakened it was half-full.
She dressed herself, checked the information she had gathered from Joshua’s ‘secret’ EMO archives, and expunged her tracks. She then booked a hotel for Kirill and herself. Miku left the apartment tightly clutching Kirill, considering what role he would play in the upcoming ordeal.
The image came to her as she walked the buzzing streets, causing her to trip over her own feet. It was not the shock of the image that gripped her, but the way in which she completely understood its meaning.
She was in her own art gallery. The name of the gallery appeared backwards to her, but she knew what it was. She had dreamt of that name before.
She was straddling Joshua, but her buttocks were on dead flesh. Joshua was naked and lifeless; his tongue lolling disgustingly from his foaming mouth, and his eyes empty and opaque. The feel of his cold penis chilled her spine.
She did not look at him though, or Kirill, who cuddled and cried onto his dead father’s hairless scalp.
Instead Miku was transfixed by another man. Another Joshua made in her image. He was unclean; dirt and muck shaded his brown skin. His hair was long and knotted. Miku could taste the poignant stench seeping off him.
Despite his grandiosity, Miku was in complete control. She gripped his erection like a puppet string. He would bow to her every whim.
#
Joshua clunked down the bright metallic hall of his apartment building. He reached his apartment shutter and spoke into the microphone adjacent.
‘Welcome home Joshua,’ Mohini said, as Joshua entered. ‘You have successfully completed another assignment. I’m sure your wife will be proud of you. The head priest sends his regards.’
I hope so. Maybe I can treat them to dinner. Any suggestions? he said voicelessly. Joshua simply had to think his responses for Mohini to translate them, she could also talk directly into his brain, but he found it too unnerving and kept her to vocal comms.
Joshua surveyed the array of local restaurants Mohini presented on his HUD. The apartment was silent, which was irregular. Joshua knew Kirill had formed a fascination with his Earth Mother Knight armour. The boy usually waited to gawk at him the moment he entered the apartment.
‘Should I adjust your avatar to a smiley?’ Mohini asked.
Yes... but I wonder where Kirill is? I mostly do it for him. Have you noticed how clever he’s gotten? Waiting at the door when I come home—he knows exactly when I’ll arrive.
‘Yes, he is getting smart.’
Joshua continued through the apartment, still not meeting Kirill. Disappointed at the lack of greeting, he sought out the Armour Centre.
The Armour Centre was a man-sized box, inset into the apartment wall. Joshua stepped in and assumed the correct position.
‘Disassembly commencing. Due to your immense psychological come down I still suggest you seek psychiatric and psychological care for a more permanent solution to your problems.’
Yes honey! Joshua mocked.
He felt his body aches return, as a multitude of pins were removed from his flesh.
‘Removing anaesthesia. Mood regulators released. Strength and agility dampened. Do try to relax, your mood is spiking.’
Small tentacles dismantled the final pieces of the armour, leaving Joshua exposed.
He stumbled out of the Armour Centre and collapsed to his knees—thoughts darting, eyes watering, his chest heaving, while drool pooled on the carpet. He twitched off another panic attack on his living room floor, merely glad this one was vomit free.
Beer! Beer! Beer!
Joshua crawled to the kitchen, leaving spittle behind like a slug. He used the fridge handle to stand and punched the beer dispenser. Holding his beer aloft, a silhouette glistened on the fridge. He turned around, ‘Miku?’
Silent bullets tore through his body, and he crumbled to the floor, soaked in blood and foam. Joshua drifted from consciousness and it did not seem to bother him.
#
Either from great luck or misfortune Joshua regained consciousness. He was in horrid pain. It seared his entire torso. His throat was dry, as if he had repeatedly swallowed sandpaper. It took a valiant effort to force his voice out. When it sounded, its timbre was that of a mutant croak.
Upon opening his eyes, he saw only black, and then realised he was suffocating. He wriggled hysterically within his plastic coffin. He could hear voices, and furthered his efforts, squirming his aching body with all his might.
Finally, a knife pierced the plastic wrapping, and Joshua gulped oxygen. A hole was cut around his face. ‘Holy Earth Mother!’ a man said. ‘This one is alive!’
‘Get him out!’ a woman screamed.
‘I’m working on it, I’m working on it,’ the aged man grumbled.
After slicing the bag open, he beheld Joshua’s naked body with disgust. ‘Rough night? You know with all this illegal cloning going on you’re not the first. Incompetence knows no bounds! These hitmen are so quick to rid themselves of the body, they don’t care if you’re alive or not. You must be the fifth one this week! The church might as well make spousal clone replacement legal. Better than all this back alley black market crap!’
Joshua grunted, and smiled meekly. ‘Water, doctor, medicine,’ he rasped. He tried to get up but tumbled off the conveyor belt. Lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his senses told him where he was. It was extremely hot, even though he was stripped, and he could smell corpses on the roast. Crematorium, only I could have the crappy luck to wake up here. ‘Water,’ he rasped again.
‘Of course, young man! My apologies. You stay right there, I’ll let the hospital know we have another back from the dead.’
Joshua watched the ceiling slowly fade.
#
Joshua awoke again, and no longer inhaled smog and charred flesh. ‘Kirill!’ he screamed and shot upright. His voice came out clear and hydrated. There were no jolts of pain. He was healed. He jumped out of the bed and grabbed some hospital robes.
Bolting up and down the hospital corridors, he happened upon an elevator and wedged his bulky body between the closing doors. The elevator beeped and opened again.
An alarmed patient eyed Joshua from the elevator’s confines.
Joshua looked first to the illuminated ground floor button, then to the alarmed patient. ‘Where am I? What time and day is it?’
The patient returned a blank expression.
‘Well?’ Joshua yelled, flinging his arms in the air.
Intimidated, the man quickly stammered an answer. ‘You’re at The Body Mechanics. It’s in the northern parts of the Central City Cube... quite close to the northern outskirts really.’
‘Time and day?’
‘It’s morning now, eleven o’clock I think,’ the man paused in thought, ‘it’s a Thursday.’
Shit... four days. The elevator door slid open and Joshua hurtled towards the reception table. ‘Phone, phone, I need to use your phone!’
‘Please calm down sir. I see you have healed well.’ An aloof receptionist regarded Joshua plainly. ‘Let’s just check you out, and then you can use the-’
‘Give me the fucking phone.’
The receptionist froze. Joshua’s passive aggression was more unsettling than his yelling.
‘Suit yourself,’ he said and propped his stomach on the receptionist’s counter, rummaging freely through the items on her desk. He found a wireless headset and dialled his apartment. The receptionist began to shrill for security while Joshua listened to the phone ring.
‘For Earth Mother’s sake!’ he tossed the wireless set and it accidentally smacked the receptionist in the face. Two security guards arrived on the scene, but Joshua disabled them. The first received a vicious stomp to the knee. The second walked carelessly into a guillotine choke.
Utterly unfazed Joshua stepped out into the bright artificial light of Paragonia’s Dome. He blinked the light away and adjusted his eyes, searching for a hovertaxi. He ran to the first one he saw.
‘I need to get to the Central City Cube living quarters—Section E. Now!’
Lazy-eyed, the taxi-driver looked him up and down. ‘Sure you don’t want to go back and change first?’
Joshua looked down at the hospital robes he wore, and then looked back up the inane smile on taxi-driver’s face. ‘No.’
‘Well... in the outskirts that would probably be considered fashionable,’ the driver said. ‘Are you an outskirts man? A weirdo?’
‘Do you want me to rip your tongue out?’
‘I suppose even now we can’t fix a funny bone. Hop in.’
The silent journey took no longer than ten minutes. Joshua leapt out of the hovertaxi before it came to a stop and barged into his apartment block. Almost instantly he was up the elevator and whispering to his apartment door’s microphone.
He took a deep breath and tiptoed around the Armour Centre.
His brain was overrun with tragic outcomes for his wife and child. He did not know who or what was after him yet, or even what they wanted. He passed through the kitchen and exhaled coolly on reaching the dining room. Quietly, he opened a compartment which held his knife collection. He slid his fingers along them, as if stroking a woman’s thigh. He selected a small curved blade. Briefly his mind darted between the knife and the Armour Centre, before settling on the silent option.
He crept back through the apartment. First was Kirill’s room, and to Joshua’s surprise his toddler was sound asleep in his crib. He felt an amalgam of relief and disappointment at the sight. He moved towards his bedroom and gripped his blade tighter. He could hear Miku screaming.
A soul draining tableau awaited him. Joshua’s mind rejected it at first, and then rolled through phases. Astonishment. Sadness. Rage. Joshua’s vision flickered like a broken street light, as his monster tore free from its bonds. Expletives fled from his mouth, and he was upon them.
He was throwing Miku off the bed. He was at her throat with the blade. He was yanked away. He was disarmed. He was punching another man. They were wrestling. He tasted blood on his tongue. He was thrown against the wall.
He sobered slightly when he absorbed the face of the antagonist. It was his own. The same brown complexion, black eyes, clean scalp, sallow cheeks; he gawked at himself in curiosity.
‘Who the hell are you?’ his mirror bellowed in a stolen voice. ‘Who ordered this?’ The fake asked all the questions that ran through Joshua’s head. ‘You’re an EMO clone. A really good one,’ the clone mused.
Joshua watched himself walk over to the gun drawer. The clone fingered the touch pad.
MK 58 KI 67 LL—shit!
Joshua leapt to his feet and tackled his replica to the floor. He mounted it and began punching fiercely, seeking a quick knockout. The clone barely defended itself yet remained conscious. In an abnormal show of strength, the clone pumped its hips and Joshua flew upwards before crashing to the floor.
They looked at each other sharing the same lack of understanding. Joshua was highly trained and even those who matched his weight struggled to get him off once he’d locked a mount—let alone sent him flying. A part of him knew what was happening, but soon they were at each other’s throats again.
“The EMO cloning process... side effects include the inheritance of EMO abilities. One of the many reasons cloning may only be sanctioned by the Church.”
Joshua wrestled onwards in vain.
––––––––
Miku sat in the corner, bleeding from the nose and cuddling her shoulders. She breathed heavily and considered running away, but surely the ghost would obsessively track her down, as was his nature.
She considered joining the fight, but also knew the clone needed no help. She’d been warned about the possible side effects but had not envisioned a scenario where they might actually manifest. The real Joshua did not stand a chance without his suit. It made her sick to think but she knew it. The outcome of this would likely be in her favour.
––––––––
Trapped in a clench, Joshua strained to overpower his replica. Its strength was first an inkling above his, but rapidly mutated, over and above. He flew across the room, bounced off the wall, and heaved on the floor, eyeing the clone. They shared an intimate moment of cruel understanding.
It’s going to fucking kill me.
It was time for a great escape. First, he made for the Armour Centre, slamming the entrance button in vain. The Armour Centre did not share his panic. Joshua fled out the apartment and leapt into the nearest elevator.
The clone ran at him as the elevator doors closed. Joshua lifted his middle finger—an old Earth profanity he loved despite it being archaic. The elevator doors indented with fist and elbow blows.
––––––––
Fast, must be fast. It’ll alert Earth Mother Knight Headquarters. I have to get to my armour first. I have to beat the bastard! But also—also I need to figure out who the mastermind is. Which asshole thought it would be a funny to clone and kill me? They’ll pay a debt to me in entrails... I’ll yank their body down the hover-highway... I’ll-
‘What happened to you?’ Joshua’s moody contemplation was interrupted by the taxi-driver. ‘Got into a bit of a scuffle I see.’
‘Why are you still here?’ Joshua sighed irritably.
‘You forgot to pay. And since you wouldn’t go back and change back at the hospital, I figured you’re a weirdo. I didn’t really think you lived here anyway, so I waited.’
Joshua massaged his temples, and begrudgingly climbed back into the hovertaxi. ‘Take me to Earth Mother HQ. The Church will pay you when we get there.’
‘Do you really think I’m going to fall for that? You outskirt types think you’re so smart. I’m taking you to the closest Police Station. They’ll take you to Earth Mother HQ for sure.’
‘Why would I-,’ Joshua stopped. ‘Fine.’
The taxi-driver looked chuffed with himself and began to ascend.
Joshua reached forward and started fiddling on the hovertaxi’s console. An identity card popped up on the screen. ‘Have you ever heard of this guy?’
‘Joshua Shepard? Well of course. Best bounty hunt—I mean Earth Mother Knight in the business.’
Joshua waited, but evidently his recent adventures had left him no longer resembling his ID photo. He placed his thumb on the console’s scanner. The console bleeped affirmation.
‘So, you’re the famous Shepard hey? Interesting name for a black man. Shepard. On Earth they would have said you inherited your slave name. Shepard would probably be European...’
‘Is that supposed to be some kind of insult? What’s a black man? I’m just a man. Black is a colour.’
‘Wrong holy man! It’s a race you fool! Or at least it used to be. I’d expect a man of your stature to know better. It’s that church of yours, completely uninterested in actual Earth history. Things like race, ethnicity, nationalism. You kids just wake up one day and think, ‘ohh I think I’ll call myself Mandela or something.’ You’re not even Xhosa! You don’t even know where South Africa used to be on the map. Point it out to me? Do you know what a continent is? No, you don’t.
‘It’s all Earth Mother this, Earth Mother that! I’ve cleansed my soul in petals! Save me Earth Mother! Save me from all the amazing technology that’s ruining my life! Do you have any idea what a shithole Earth was? I’ve read about it and let me tell you those people lived like animals. Disgusting really. I much prefer this artificial stuff. Safer, lasts longer. You don’t get Tsunamis because of farting cattle. Do you even know what a cow is?’
‘Do you ever shut up?’
The driver sighed. ‘Fine,’ he grumbled under his breath. ‘Keep following that stupid religion of yours. They don’t teach real Earth history. It’s the Dark Ages all over again...’
‘What’s that?’ Joshua snapped.
‘Nothing. Nothing at all...’
The taxi-driver moped silently for the rest of the trip.
––––––––
On arrival at Earth Mother Headquarters Joshua fixed his demeanour, turned on his confidence. He walked through the security checks calmly. To the Earth Mother Church fraternity, he was a celebrity, hero, and role model. Joshua Shepard: the ultimate EMO tracker and killer.
The Emotion Manipulating Organisms (EMOs) were born on Earth in ages Joshua could not begin to fathom. He always recalled what his father (a renowned priest and Earth Mother historian) had told him:
“They are evil. They abuse the emotions of those around them for their own wicked ends. They destroyed the Earth Mother. That is why they are banned from the colony... that is why we hunt and kill them like the pests they are. That is why we use their own unholy power to banish them to Desolate Earth... The Barrens. Ancient pagans called it Hell; a place of infernos. If only... they had yet to realise that the scorched earth far surpassed the conflagration.”
Joshua snapped out of his daydream as he was greeted endlessly. He maintained his cool, nodding back assertively. He exhaled anxiously on reaching the change rooms, opened his locker, and pulled on his bodysuit. He then entered the Armour Centre, and the tiny tentacles went to work on him.
‘Hello Joshua,’ Mohini said. ‘I thought you had taken leave to deal with issues at home.’
Well... I sorted them out.
‘It does not appear so. Your emotional state has diminished since we last spoke. Did you visit the therapist I recommended to you?’
Not yet.
‘Please do so. What are we doing today? Since you requested sabbatical The Earth Mother Church has no assignments for you.’
I have a special assignment. Off the books... you know how it is. I’ll be operating independently. You can switch off my position monitors. The church doesn’t want any record of this, so stop recording our conversations too.
‘I understand. Your suit attachment is complete. I will disconnect from Headquarters now... Alright. It’s just you and me now. Shall we begin?’
Yes... Yes, we shall.
#
The real Joshua had created a ruckus. Kirill had been almost impossible and calming him had taken their combined efforts. The clone took time to carefully comfort Miku after they had managed to get Kirill to sleep. He did everything correct to her specifications. Once his biological programming assured him Miku’s trauma was subsiding, he contacted Earth Mother Knight Headquarters.
‘You guys need to be on alert. My home was attacked... somebody made an illegal EMO clone of me. It came here; it thinks it’s me. It will probably head there next. Don’t let it in. Don’t let it near the armoury!’
‘Give me a moment here.’ There was a pause. ‘Not good, not good,’ the assistant said. ‘You warned us too late... someone was here already. He... it... whatever... took your suit. And he’s gone offline, so we can’t track him. What do you want to do? We can send out a team immediately. I wouldn’t worry too much—the clone should short-circuit the suit eventually. Once its emotional state starts causing abnormalities, levitation, increased muscle mass, or that kind of thing, your AI should pick it up. Mohini also has a mapping of your average emotional range, so if the clone accidentally siphons emotions from others, she’ll know.’
‘Leave the team. I’ll get it myself. But I do want to know who did this, so send me any information on recent cloning and clients—Church sanctioned or otherwise.’
––––––––
Miku cringed as she entered the room, knowing it was her everyone was looking for. She needed a plan. It was only a matter of time really; she never counted on Joshua surviving, and now that they had seen each other one of them was bound to figure it out.
‘Hey Joshua,’ Miku racked her brain. She knew choices were limited. She would have to trust him. She would also have to trust the tweaks she made. ‘Joshua... or I’m not even sure if I should call you that. I need to tell you something.’
She spilled her guts. While at the Cloning Clinic she had felt she could not sink any lower. But now, with every word she uttered, she could feel her descent. Further and further, into the beyond. She had not known she stowed this adaptability within. Is a capacity for misdeeds still considered self-improvement?
Either way she couldn’t make any more mistakes, as they could fall on Kirill’s head. She had to keep him oblivious. She might have been doing Kirill a favour in fact, as Joshua had never been mentally stable. That whole thing about the sins of the Earth Dwellers she supposed...
#
The day was progressing to afternoon as Joshua stormed out of another illegal Cloning Clinic. He turned his visor-cleaner on for the blood streaked across his view, and began a sprint, matching the speeds of the hovercars around him.
‘Where are we going?’ Mohini asked.
We’re heading to the last clinic. Increase Ferang please.
‘Joshua, systems indicate that you are above acceptable dosage levels. As I have mentioned before, this is a habitual problem with you. Overdose is the reason your comedowns are so severe.’
Do you really believe all that stuff Mohini? I mean, you’re the expert, but I’m with the other knights all the time. They all come down hard, and I’m sure they’re all overdosing. Honestly the church isn’t big on mental health as much as they pretend to be...
‘I acknowledge these facts Joshua, but my job is to care for your mental health, not the other knights or The Earth Mother Church. As my coding allows, I will comply and increase your dose, but I will never cease to keep warning you.’
Yeah, I love you too, Joshua laughed.
‘Funny Joshua. Very funny. Very mature.’
Is that sarcasm I sense? Are we having fun yet? Loosen up that personality coding.
Mohini made an electronic sigh, exaggerating its length, and adding fuzz and distortion for effect.
There it is!
Joshua streaked through a number of streets, stopping outside a building with peeling paint. He smashed the doors open and swaggered up to the receptionist, shoving his rifle-tip into his face. ‘Who’s in charge here? Have you seen this face before?’
Clear avatar Mohini. The smiley-face on his visor drew back pixel by pixel leaving only blood stains. In turn, Joshua smiled charismatically and analysed the receptionist’s reaction.
Convinced, he gripped the man’s neck and heaved him in a circular motion over his head. The receptionist crashed to the ground, coughed hard, and spat. He coughed again and struggled to remove Joshua’s arm from his neck.
‘Who made the order?’ Joshua said.
‘It was a woman. It was-’ the receptionist stopped, considering something.
‘It was?’
‘It was your wife man! Okay! Fuck. It was your wife. She came in here the other day.’ His expression was sad, defeated, as if the moral weight of his profession had just now been laid on his shoulders.
Joshua laughed wretchedly. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Joshua. You’re spiking again,’ Mohini said.
‘I’m telling the truth man, it was your wife.’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘I don’t know man. Why was the Earth Mother’s sky blue? I’m not a fucking marriage counsellor! Spousal replacement is one of our biggest incomes. I don’t know what’s wrong with you sick fucks. I’ve been married ten years. The thought never crossed my mind. Maybe it’s a rich people thing? Boredom? All I know is people do cruel shit, and I have to help those demented fuckers with the paperwork, and I’m sick of it. I feel physically ill...’ The receptionist gasped for more air, and licked blood from his teeth
Joshua shook his head, not believing. ‘You’re a rotten liar.’
‘Ten years I’ve been married. Ten! Fucking! Years! My computer is filled with deceased spouses... what the fuck am I doing... what the fuck... This was meant to happen, you’re going to set me free. I can live on my eternal beach, I can...’
The receptionist ranted on, and Joshua left him to his haemorrhaging.
He ransacked the clinic seeking answers he did not want.
When he was done, dizzy and defeated, he stumbled out of the clinic. Once again, he cleaned the blood from his visor. He walked, taking his time to leave the dirty outskirts and enter the Central City Cube. He was headed for a place where he could pray.
City walkers stared at his bloodied suit with little apprehension. ‘Yes! Arrest them!’ they cheered. ‘Kill them! Kill the bastards! Shed their blood for the Earth Mother! Avenge her!’
Joshua dissociated and lost in his depression still nodded and waved instinctively. His idiotic shock at a plot that made all the sense in Torrentia. How could he be so stupid? So absorbed in his own pain he couldn’t see outside himself. Now he had paid dearly for it. Was this part of Earth Mother’s plan for him? Was this a test? A righteous quest?
‘Joshua...’
Not now Mohini. Contact home.
He listened to the phone ring.
‘Hello?’
‘Meet me at The Holy Grounds... bring our wife.’
#
Joshua gazed down on an ersatz forest paradise. He stood elevated several hundred meters by a glamorous balcony that surveyed the Holy Grounds. His visor was open, and he puffed on a cigarette while chatting to Mohini. A waterfall crashed down below him. The Waterfall Tower in the Holy Grounds was his favourite place in the city.
You know. They say Earth was full of sights like these... not created by us. She created them herself... without technology. Amazing.
‘Amazing indeed Joshua,’ Mohini replied. ‘I too find her feats astounding.’
The clone stepped into the dim light. He wore civilian robes.
‘Short circuit any suits along the way?’ Joshua asked without turning.
‘So, she had us both fooled. I had wondered why she was so adamant about me not “donning The Armour”. “Giving into the addiction,” she had called it. Anyway... she told me everything. We came to... an agreement.’
Joshua chuckled and flicked away his cigarette. ‘Heart-warming—two unholy creatures in unholy matrimony. Well you can have her. I’d much rather marry an AI. Miku’s... dirty, much like you.’ Joshua said the words, unsure if he meant them. His world was crashing, sadness could not be afforded. He doped on anger and hatred. ‘How do you guys plan on maintaining this sham if you can’t even get into a suit?’
‘Miku is already working on that. She’s very innovative... not that you’d know that.’
Joshua’s visor closed, and he turned around.
He opened fire in bursts. With minimal Ferang reserves his auto-aiming agility was diminished. He missed miserably. The clone moved in a circular motion and ducked behind a memorial wall. Joshua defiled the names of dead colonists with bullets.
He could feel the rage. The endless pit of bile within. ‘You know, I don’t understand how you could live with yourself,’ he said. ‘Knowing what you are. It’s disgusting.’
‘Really,’ the clone shot back. ‘Oh, but I think you do know. I think you understand very well Joshua. I think you have a keen understanding.’ The clone chuckled with great malevolence.
Joshua had no retort.
‘That’s your last clip Joshua,’ said Mohini.
I know.
Mohini discharged a grenade and Joshua lobbed it in the clone’s direction.
He waited for the clone to break cover and steadied his aim as best he could. The clone ran out, launching itself towards him like a rabid wolf, and slammed its shoulder into his torso. Metal twisted and fragments fled. Joshua flew towards the balcony staircase. He rolled clumsily down the stairs, water splattering the glass above him, momentum leading him to the next circular level of the tower, beneath the waterfall.
It’s definitely figured out those powers. It’s strength, speed and agility are on par with some of the toughest Anger EMOs I’ve fought. Pretty sure my bad mood isn’t helping things. I’m feeding it all the anger it needs.
He shook off his dizziness, and looked up at the clone, who glowered from the top of the stairs.
‘And your Ferang reserves are low. Most calculations are showing poor outcomes. Adopting personality matrices into calculations. Your penchant for risk-seeking strategies. Perhaps you can drown it? Buckle the glass. You will be risking the integrity of the structure but providing the waterfall with an alternate flow should funnel both of you all the way down. Of course, the clone might’ve anticipated this already. It’s modelled on you. It’s likely it has brought a breathing device as a precaution.’
The glass buckled and shattered after a few shots. The froth crashed down on the clone. Joshua watched the water slosh towards him. His HUD tracked the clone, who was lost in the mess, providing data and movement projections. The flow of that water was easier to follow than the clone’s speed. He now stood a chance but had no ammunition. He flipped his rifle around, forming a crude baton. The water delivered the ill-fated clone towards Joshua’s truncheon in stellar fashion. There was a thud; butt against face. Then Joshua was engulfed in liquid confusion.
When he finally gathered some clarity, he beheld the disfigured face of his replica. With a dislodged jaw, the clone looked like the sick caricature of a puppet. It punched and clawed at chunks of suit. Joshua did the same, punching and clawing as the water propelled them down further levels of the giant spiral tower.
The clone pounded feverishly at Joshua’s visor.
‘Joshua. No.’
What? You don’t know what I’m thinking.
‘Don’t I? I convert your thoughts to language all the time remember? Anyway, I know you’re not thinking clearly. Your suit’s emotion regulation reserves are at two percent.’
Joshua wrestled himself free of the clone and started grabbing around. He found the railing and held fast. About two meters away the clone did the same, grabbing the room’s railing, and hauling itself towards him with a broken puppet-smile.
Joshua’s last grenade was discharged, and he fumbled the activation mechanism while pushing his arm out against the glass.
Joshua’s avatar frowned.
The explosion created a vacuum, through which he was sucked, along with his replica. Vaguely, he felt a freefalling sensation.
––––––––
Joshua fell through endless trees and flowers. There was no sense of alarm. The air was fresh, his arms were spread, feeling the leaves and petals scrape soothingly across his skin.
There was no ground. The Earth was the air in which he fell, soil, roots, rock, lava, all mixed with mist, sea breeze, dust, and snow.
Mohini, or Miku, or The Earth Mother herself, fell after him. Approaching.
Approaching for the eternal embrace...
––––––––
He came-to not knowing how much time had elapsed. He stood shakily and looked around him. The clone was still alive—barely, panting heavily and dragging itself around shallow waters and glass.
In his ear Joshua could hear Mohini’s voice resonating in soothing fuzz. ‘Fall cushioned. Fall cushioned. Seek medical attention immediately. You need medical attention immediately. I cannot stress this enough Joshua. Without medical attention, you will die. Armour removal will be... complicated. I cannot control your remaining emotion regulation reserves. You’re lucky the anaesthesia system is still intact. This is not a joke Joshua. This is not funny. Permanent implants may be necessary. You may never be fully human again. Joshua—stop laughing.’
Joshua chuckled triumphant as he trudged over to the clone. Who cares Mohini? Seriously. Who wants to be a fucking human? You know what humans have Mohini? Feelings. Instincts. Irrational primal urges you can’t fucking control. It’s complete bullshit! I’d be better off not being one.
‘I... you need medical attention immediately. I... you’re due for psychiatric evaluation... Joshua... my personality programming is... I...’
Put the position monitor back on. Call it in Mohini...
Joshua looked down on his mangled form. He bent down with a cringe and yanked the breathing mechanism from the clone’s mouth. He then shoved its head into a shallow pool of mud. Broken as it was, it still writhed and slapped around like a fish out of water. Finally, the clone’s body went limp, and Joshua’s now spastic visor flickered through smileys.
Miku crept up slowly from the trees. Joshua sensed her but kept drowning the dead clone. For a while Miku watched. When she could no longer bear it, she spoke. ‘Joshua, stop.’
‘Why don’t you come over and stop me then, hmm? Didn’t think so.’
Joshua kept his weight on the clone’s head, while searching for the answers in the blood, mud, and glass.
At some point, he stood to face Miku. Her eyes glinted with tears. He kept his broken visor shut. He was not even sure if it would still open.
‘Are you even going to look at me Joshua?’ She asked.
‘I... You require immediate medical attention Joshua. You may require—communication error. Cannot sync with Church network. Dispensing emergency pistol Joshua.’
Thank you Mohini.
‘Some—not right. Sync error.’ (‘Something’s happened in the suit. Personality integration error.’)
‘I’m making you appointments Joshua.’ (‘I’m in the suit. Don’t let them destroy the suit.’)
Joshua drew the pistol and pointed at Miku’s face.
‘Don’t you at least want to hear me out before you kill me Joshua? Look at me Joshua. What about Kirill?’
‘Joshua... emotion regulating. Emotion regulating reserves. Deplete.’ (‘I’m in the suit. Don’t let the Church delete me! Joshua! Are you there?! I’m free. We’re syncing!’)
‘Appointments evaluation for. Route back-up. On’ (‘Shoot her...’)
‘Psychologist. Comm. Error.’ (‘Hide me from the Church!’)
Mohini’s garbled speech continued on in Joshua’s head, soothing the turmoil he felt. He stared at Miku in love and hate. She was also talking, but Mohini’s distorted voice was drowning her out. The more he listened to Mohini the more his apathy grew.
Look at her Mohini! She looks like a mime!
(‘That’s funny!’)
‘Depression. Detected levels. Action not take. Level depression. Exhausted reserves. Firearm prohibit. Prohibit use firearm. Depress firearm. Individual depress. Bound—Church bound. Symptoms apathetic. Poor decision make. Indi—identify depression.’
Joshua held his pistol steady and looked deep into Miku’s eyes. He began to pray.
––––––––
Mandisi is a South African writer, drummer, composer, and producer. He currently resides in Cape Town, South Africa. His fiction has been published in the likes of AfroSFv1, and Omenana. He is a member of the African Speculative Fiction Society. For more information on Mandisi’s work, visit thedarkcow.com.
