| |
10:13 Thursday 9 November 2089
“I know why you’re here my friend.”
The fact that Douglas was drinking a frozen banana daiquiri four hours earlier than usual meant that, of course, he knew what was about to happen. Douglas took a sip of his cocktail and smiled at his friend and trusted colleague as he repeated the phrase. It wasn’t a smile that said ‘I know what you plan to do but I have taken precautions to avoid it’ but rather a smile that said ‘I forgive you’. Zafar looked sad; he was sad. He’d known Douglas for many years. They were more than just colleagues. They were friends, dear friends. They had shared so many happy times, so many sad times together. They had faced and overcome so many challenges together. Yet now Zafar had come to kill his closest friend.
“I wish there was another way, Douglas.”
“But there isn’t, Zaff. There is no other way.”
“And you’re alright with that?”
“No, of course not. I don’t particularly want to die – not just yet, anyway – but I’m ready to do so. For our children’s’ sake.”
“I really don’t want to do this.”
“But you must, my friend, you must. If you don’t, the Illuminati will maintain their power and influence forever. Non-Recarns will become a slave race. It’s bad enough now, but imagine sentencing your future descendants to such a life.”
“Do you remember anything about your past lives, Douglas?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all? Not even a tiny smidgeon of PLM?”
“Not a jot. A touch of the occasional déjà vu, but nothing out of the extraordinary.”
“But what if I’m wrong?”
“Can you take that risk? What if you’re right? What if I wake up one morning and find that my PLM has returned?”
“But you’re one of the good guys.”
“And sometimes the good guys have to do a bad thing for good reasons. And yes, of course eradicating Recarns is a bad thing. You’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing what you’ve done.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You can and you will. You’re strong. I didn’t choose you as my number two because I admire your dress sense. I chose you because I know that whatever you do, you’ll do it for the right reasons, for the good of the human race. I had hoped that the FS virus would resolve everything, but I was wrong. The only way to crush the Illuminati is to destroy it completely. I did my part. I’ve ensured that the continuity of power afforded by Recarnism is broken, but it’s a slow process. Too slow. I’ve picked at the scab. It’s up to you to rip it off and destroy it.”
Zafar took his pulse gun from its holster and pointed it at his lifelong friend, who was still smiling and totally unafraid. Douglas clasped his hands in front of him.
“I might say ‘et tu Brute’ but that would give the impression that I felt that you were betraying me. But you’re not. Eradicating Recarns is something that perhaps I should be doing but – quite simply – don’t have the balls to do.”
Zafar’s hand was trembling in unison with his voice.
“I don’t want to do this, I don’t know if I can.”
“But you must. I’m a Recarn. Okay, I’m one of the good ones, but I’m still a Recarn. You can’t take any chances. You can’t make exceptions.”
Zafar turned the pulse gun down towards the floor of Douglas’s office.
“I can’t do it. I can’t kill my best friend. I can’t kill my brother.”
“Ah, I thought this might happen. I expected this, and so I have taken precautions and have relieved you of the responsibility. If I could see another path I would take it but, alas, I see no alternative, so I have taken steps to absolve you of the responsibility for my death. You’ll have enough deaths weighing on your conscience without adding mine to the list.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have taken poison. I could have chosen a faster acting toxin but I wanted to have this little chat with you first.”
“What was it? We can get the antidote.”
“It’s too late for that. It’s well into my system by now. I can’t have much time left. I’m rather looking forward to my new life. And more importantly, I’m looking forward to a new life with no memory of this one. Or any others. A fresh start. Such a gift. A gift I’ve never known. Until know.”
Douglas’s face suddenly went pale as breath became a rare commodity for him. He began gasping for air, not because he wanted to live but because his body didn’t want to die. However, his soul, the essence of Douglas, was ready for the great adventure that would be his next life and forced his body to whisper.
“Farewell, dear friend. May you always know that you had no choice, that I love you, and that humanity may one day understand.”
As Zafar watched his old friend crumple to the floor, he wondered if humanity would ever understand or if he would be consigned to history as a monster, mentioned in the same breath as Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot and Marcus Gallagher.