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Morgan entered the washroom closet that had functioned like an elevator. The same one that Aviva had taken to enter the secure location and that was accessed from the anarchist bookstore washroom in Paris. The same closet in which he also traveled disembodied, watching via the drone’s camera held in the top corner of the room with a paste Aviva had made with soaked toilet paper. He had accompanied Aviva in her curiosity to uncover the story behind the Red Masks.
She had gotten much more than she could ever have imagined. He couldn’t blame her for what she’d done. How was she to know this terrorist group was like nothing she had ever known before? She couldn’t know that Henry was some augmented human as powerful as the Qintellect. That he had traveled across realities to start his own utopia to save humanity from endless cycles of suffering.
He didn’t have time to dwell on the past. He must find a way to get her out of The Virt and get as far away from Henry as possible. Morgan ignored how the transformation of The Virt would play into Henry’s plan, but he didn’t intend on staying around to find out. He had given up trying to save the world. It wasn’t his responsibility to stop him. He had never asked Vi for this ability or for anything to do with this. They had lied to him. They had sent him into this reality without his consent and without warning him of the implication it might have on his life and on those he loved.
He had done enough, getting his throat slashed, his body shot, and his knees broken to try to stop Henry from executing a project that might not be so bad after all. He wasn’t meant to be a superhero with unique abilities and secret knowledge. He’d chosen to work as a pizza server not for lack of ambition, but because he wanted to appreciate the simplicity and the beauty of life. He had purposely avoided getting caught up in politics and dead-end ideological debates. Why would he change now? He would bring Aviva to safety and leave this whole crazy adventure behind him. Distance himself from Henry and watch from the sidelines as Henry slowly changed the world—for better or for worse.
The closet he stood in didn’t move. It remained still, like a closet in a washroom should. The message about the safe location had not played its automatic message when he had opened the door. The access to the safe location had been closed off, as if it had never even existed. Perhaps it was filled to capacity, or maybe it had been closed off for some security reason. Either way, he bypassed the settings. The infrastructure remained intact, still capable of carrying him down to the bunkers below, and he would use it.
He scanned for an alarm warning of his arrival. He didn’t find one. Henry didn’t need one. If Henry wanted to know where he was, he could find out. Morgan didn’t expect an army to greet him. They were busy elsewhere, causing chaos all over the world. The security was likely to be the same red laser that had shot the camera offline when he had first entered to see the room full of bodies. If that was the case, he could handle it without much difficulty.
The washroom closet landed at the bottom of the shaft. The door opened with the red dot centered on Morgan’s forehead. A shot hissed through the air. He fell to the ground, then dived forward to seek shelter beneath the nearest body. He deactivated the automatic sniper and scanned the room for more weapons. He found two more in opposite corners and threw their tracking software offline.
He scanned beneath the tables. He spotted the blue outline of legs running toward him. He entered the body; it wasn’t a living being. The body wasn’t only a holographic image as he had first suspected. The body was made of a fluid matter that filled the shape defined by the lattice outline of blue lights on its surface. An interesting technology that he could not admire for too long.
From the inside he distorted the blue lights to make them emanate outward. The physical fluid exploded out, covering the bodies around it in a sticky goo.
Morgan waited, attentive to any more threats, then scanned the space above the bodies. Nothing in sight for now.
The room was filled with tens of thousands of bodies, all lying reclined in a quiet stasis, their eyes covered with things that looked like tiny spoons. The bodies were hooked to tubes with flowing fluids that entered their arms, and wires in their heads extended into the ground. The air was cold and had a synthetic odor that disgusted him. He examined the bodies, feeling pity for them, knowing they lived freely in the Tower, but were held here unable to escape—forever at the mercy of the Red Masks’ whims and wishes.
He leaned over the body next to him. There was a yellowish hue to the pale skin. He touched it. The warmth from the body contrasted with the coolness of the room. He looked around. Naked bodies all looked strangely similar. Finding Aviva would take time. He must act quickly.
Morgan entered the surveillance camera to search the room efficiently. He zoomed in on bodies of women that could be her. He found a woman that he believed to be Aviva. He hurried over the three rows and noticed he had been mistaken. She didn’t have the bird tattoo on her chest.
He returned to the camera and scanned, systematically, one row after the other. When finding a possible match, he zoomed into the chest where her tattoo of the bird should be.
“Are you looking for someone specific?” a man said, laughing.
Morgan turned to see who had spoken to him. It was him, Henry. He recognized him, somehow. He was standing about ten rows over from him.
“You think I’ll let her leave with you alive?” said Henry, a grin on his face.
“You do anything to her, you’ll regret it,” said Morgan.
“You can’t harm me. I’m only here in spirit.” Henry’s image disappeared, revealing a solid body covered with the lattice blue light beneath. “She’s over here.” Morgan turned to face in the opposite direction where Henry’s image was settling over another one of the bodies. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”
Henry leaned over the body, examining her. Brushing the back of his fingers along the woman’s face. Morgan didn’t want him to touch her. He didn’t want him—or even a representation of him—near her. Morgan pushed himself through the rows, displacing the bodies to squeeze through and examine if it was really her next to him. It was, with the bird tattoo on her chest, and her face so familiar. He glanced up at Henry standing across the body from him. Between his fingers he held a tube of fluid that entered Aviva’s arm.
“What are you going to do now?” asked Henry. “Blow me up and carry her out? And then what? Run from me for the rest of your life. Live in a constant fear that I will come for you, or for one of your loved ones? You can’t hide from me, Morgan, that’s my big advantage over you.”
“Just leave us alone,” Morgan said. “And I’ll do the same to you.”
“Morgan, you realize we are like brothers,” Henry said. “Both the product of Omar and Vi’s ambition.”
“I have nothing to do with you,” said Morgan.
“You know that’s not true,” said Henry, clearly disappointed in Morgan’s denial. “We were given a unique opportunity to help humanity. To put an end to these cycles of suffering. Together, we can accomplish so much.”
“I won’t join you,” said Morgan.
“What have I done to you? I’ve treated Aviva with respect, giving her a chance even after she broke the rules when entering this place,” Henry said. “Together, we would be like the new trinity, the Qintellect, you and I, saving mankind from itself and its idiotic behavior.”
“This world isn’t ours to define, Henry. The outcome of what you are trying to do will not succeed. The world you are building is unsuitable for human nature. You know this.”
“You don’t know that. You lack vision and ambition,” said Henry. “With my knowledge I know it is the only way. Morgan, it is difficult for you to understand. You haven’t seen what I have seen. The repeated failure of civilization, over and over again. The extent of the suffering carried over from generation to generation, a stupid repetition as if it was a mandatory way of life. All I want is to make that suffering go away. Am I so evil for attempting to reach this goal?”
“People are killing each other in the streets because of you,” said Morgan.
“This suffering is the fault of a few ambitious souls who get carried away. Such abuse of power will not happen in the world we are creating.”
“Because you are the one controlling everything.”
“You are wrong,” said Henry. “I too must obey the rules imposed upon The Virt. They will be enforced by the Qintellect, and I will not escape them.”
“And outside, in Replika. There you will do as you please. Causing chaos and suffering you pledged to eradicate.”
“That world was going to end, with or without me,” said Henry. “It was the only way to get the next cycle right. A small price to pay to stop it from happening again, don’t you think?”
“What if you’re wrong?” Morgan said. “What if this world you imagined is worse than the previous one?”
“Join me and we shall find out together, brother,” said Henry, reaching over for Morgan to take his free hand. Morgan examined it in disgust. “That is the choice you must make. He lifted his other hand that held the tube in his fingers. “I let go of this tube and the cyanide will kill Aviva before you could do anything about it. It’s your choice, Morgan. You help me save the world, and she lives.”
Morgan examined the fingers holding the tube and then looked back at Henry, who was expecting an answer.
“I don’t think so,” said Morgan. He solidified the liquid in the tube and entered the body which rested beneath Henry’s image. Morgan turned away as the body’s fluid exploded over him and Aviva. He turned back to carry Aviva away but as he slipped his arms beneath the body, he noticed that the tattoo had disappeared. He turned to examine the face. This wasn’t her. He had been fooled by a mirage.
Laughing filled the room in a terrifying echo.
“You fool, she’s over here.” The lights dimmed, and a spot was placed on a body several rows over.” Morgan frantically pushed his way across, climbing over bodies and stumbling over to the one beneath the spotlight. He touched her face to make sure it was really her. This time, there was no doubt this face belonged to Aviva. As he touched her, her skin turned from yellow to blue.
“No,” he said. He immediately stopped the fluids in the tubes from entering her body, he held her against him. With all the force of his consciousness, he made the cyanide vanish from her veins and her organs.
“It’s too late,” Henry said. “Your decision was clear.”
“No,” Morgan said, holding the cold, lifeless body of Aviva tightly against him.
There was nothing for him to do. She was gone and he couldn’t bring her back.
