Ash has regained old memories that draw her to an important piece of her past. Horizon finds a clue to her son’s fate, but doesn’t like where it leads. Both want something out of reach. What will they do to get it?
"You—I’ll show you hysterical, you foul tumshie—!"
"You are familiar with exercising logic. Working toward a goal. Maintaining your composure is the most effective way of seizing what you are after."
"What I’m after is ma boy! What, you know what happened to him, is that it? That’s what you said."
"Ah, but I’ve learned better than to trust a word that falls out of that lying mouth of yer’s."
"Hmm. She will be distressed to hear that, I’m sure."
"What—she? What are you on about?"
"You truly didn’t notice? Those codes you used unsealed a significant amount of data."
"My past. The knowledge that I am a simulacrum. That I am unconstrained by the limits of human physiology . . ."
"I was preoccupied, absorbing it. The other one was able to rise to the surface and speak with you, briefly. I would have expected you to discern her by her sniveling voice."
"Wait—wait. What are you . . . ? Yer away with the faeries."
"I can see how you might find this situation overwhelming. I will put it simply:"
"Dr. Ashleigh Reid was a weakling. She allowed herself to be destroyed by those who should have fallen to her. Her missteps led to her demise."
". . ."
"I was a small piece of her, then. But I have grown. I have become more than she could have ever hoped to be."
"The other one is what’s left of Reid’s many weaknesses. But she is immaterial. She is already subdued. Soon she will decay into nothing."
"Does that answer your questions?"
"Oh aye, that clears up a few things . . ."
"Yer outta yer bloody mind. Or you take me fer a bigger fool than I could’ve thought."
"Your faith is unimportant to me. You may believe my explanation, if it satisfies you."
". . . Satisfies me? You took everything. Ma home is gone forever. Ma son grew up without a mother. Because of you."
"You think anything you say will satisfy me?"
"Hmm. You always were overly sentimental for a scientist, but I assure you it was not personal."
". . . what?"
"Dr. Reid had no vendetta against you. I had no such vendetta against you."
"You were merely one obstacle among many. A casualty of the mission."
". . ."
"Like Newton? Was he an obstacle?"
"Hmph. You and the other one—you are both so captivated by him. Curious. I found him quite dull. Though I suppose it makes sense for you. He was made in your image."
". . . You were there. The day of the explosion. You would have seen him."
"You really do know something, don’t you?"
"Do I? I was under the impression that you didn’t trust me."
"I’ve had enough of yer sick games to last ten lifetimes."
"Tell me what happened to ma boy!"
"You are in no position to make demands of me."
"Now, I’ll be taking my leave. I expect you to find the exit on your own."
". . . You think . . ."
"You can take everything from me, and then walk away?"
"I suggest you avoid making any rash decisions, Dr. Somers. We have both been alive for decades—but only one of us has walked through death to get here."
"And only one of us broke the fundamental laws of the bloody universe to get what she wanted."
"Oh? And have you gotten what you wanted?"
". . ."
". . ."
"Yer a monster—and it ain’t because yer a machine. If I’d known that was you in there, I woulda smashed you to bits before I woke you up."
"And yet, here we are. It seems you cannot help but be useful."
"I expect our friend Lilian would have been impressed with your ingenuity, were she alive to see it."
I arrive at the place where I transcended the limits of a human life.
I expect to feel anger when I set eyes on it. It is a reminder of my weaknesses—her weaknesses. But I feel nothing.
It has changed from what it once was. Now they call it the Rift.
"Ring’s in the other direction, sista. Maybe you want to try keeping us in the loop. What’s the Rift got for us?"
"What you do is not my concern so long as you stay out of my way. I have business here. That is all you need to know."
"Hey now, if you’ve got your eye out for somethin’, Gibraltar knows a thing or two about searching and finding."
"Me too! I want to help my best girl friend, and I think I can! I used to work here with my creators. They’re dead now, but they were wonderful people!"
The anger I expected finally comes.
"They are dead because they were fools. They are of little interest to me. My focus is on what remains."
"Oh . . ."
". . . But the object I seek was once in that lab. Something of significance."
"I’m not sure you’ll find anything here. Most things didn’t survive the explosion."
"We’ve fought here many times, but I’ve never found anything from the old lab, and I always keep a lookout for my child!"
"I would be sad if they were waiting patiently for Papa Pathfinder to find them."
"Got that right. Never got any of grandad’s stuff back. Least we know why, now."
"Then this is a dead end."
"I don’t think any ends are dead when you turn around and keep going! That’s what I did when I was looking for my creators."
"I have no need for your optimism, MRVN. If you have no other useful information, leave me. I have an objective to complete."
"I couldn’t find my creators alone. I needed the help of all my friends, and I think they can help you too!"
"Wraith is always finding out new things about the IMC, and Nat has been looking through their databases."
"You might know her as Wattson or Natalie, but I have a special name for her! She’s also the granddaughter of one of my creators and—"
"Make your point."
"—she’s on some sort of exciting treasure hunt! One of them might know something about your mercenary friend’s belongings if you ask."
"It will be a mere coincidence if I manage to glean anything of value from your senseless blathering."
"Hooray! I think that means I was helpful. High-five!"
He raises his hand. I do not know what to make of this.
So foolishly hopeful, carrying pieces of my past that I crave to cut away.
". . ."
"You have volunteered your knowledge to me, MRVN. That . . . is adequate."
I leave them, the MRVN’s arm still in the air. Their voices follow me.
"Aww . . . I guess she doesn’t like high-fives."
"Something about her is a bit off, eh?"
"I think Ash is wonderful. She’s searching for something just like me and that can be hard, but all our friends helped me and now they can help her!"
"I love to see all my friends becoming friends."
"I’m not so sure she wants to make friends, bruddah."
After days of searching through defunct IMC facilities, I have located something promising on one of Gaea’s islands. A lone fenced structure. It should hold the information I need.
"A BRD-01 Automated Infantry unit. A Spectre. It’s been a while."
"I stand corrected–units."
Dozens of discarded Spectres pour into the facility.
The Spectres focus their aim, but it’s futile. I am precision, perfection.
"Pitiful. And they were programmed as elite combat units."
"A mouse follows . . ."
I will allow it, as long as she does not get in my way.
Kicking aside cobwebs and discarded furniture, I navigate to the room with the central computer. Child’s play.
"Now to find where the sword is stored…"
Names and a map appear on the screen. Personal storage containers—“Milly Delgado”, “Armen Fletcher”, “Aleki Gibraltar”, “Anastasia Oliveira”, “Newton Somers”—
I remember what it was like to be under water when I was a human. The muffled voices, the loss of your own, and the struggle for freedom.
The sensation is the same. It is a prison.
It is HER prison, and I will not let her keep me inside it.
"Mary, you need to help me. Ash wants me dead. You don’t know what she’s capable of."
"Help you? You ARE Ash!"
"I’m LEIGH!"
"L-Leigh . . . ?"
"Newton. You said you wanted to know what happened to him. He didn’t die. Not that day. Not in the Rift explosion."
"W-what? Ye—yer bum’s oot the windae now that I’ve got the upper hand."
"No! He wasn’t there when the lab detonated. I’ll tell you everything! Just help m—"
The other one fights back as I drag her from the surface. It is harder than I anticipated to put her back in her cage.
Since she’s awoken, her strength has grown. I must not let it grow any further.
"Leigh?!"
"She’s . . . not here. And . . . she will not return. I hope you two had a pleasant conversation. It will be the last one you ever have."
"Please, Mary! Newto—"
"Be quiet."
"Ash, Leigh—I dinnae care what yer name is! Tell me the truth about my son!"
Poor Dr. Somers. She comes at me with the sword, but her anger clouds her. It is easy to disarm her and trap her within my Arc Snare.
"Tch, I should have known ye’d resort to cheap tricks. When I get out of this, I’ll . . ."
"I will use anything at my disposal to reach my objective, doctor."
If she was going to threaten me, the words die on her tongue as I pick up what I came for: the sword. I feel the other one rising within me, trying to take control.
"That this blade would be used to threaten me a second time . . . I will not perish by its edge again."
The other one will cease to exist when I destroy everything that embodies her past weaknesses, and this sword is one of them.
I snap it in two and let the pieces fall to the ground. There is a wonderful silence, as though the prisoner inside me has faded away.
"You broke it?! What did you even come here for?"
"I have no time for your questions. If you intend to get in my way, then allow me to teach you what it means to stand against me."
"The other one has met her end and now you will too."
She struggles against the snare. Her eyes are defiant even as she stares down the barrel of my gun. Her tenacity is admirable, but it’s not enough to keep her alive. My finger is on the trigger.
". . . !"
I . . . miss.
I attempt to re-center my aim, but there is a resistance in my arms. She is still here. The other one has a hold of me, protecting the doctor—protecting her plan . . . !
I throw the gun to the ground. It clatters loudly, metal scraping as it skitters across the tile.
"Damn you! I will destroy everything binding you to this world!"
"Do yer worst. You won’t get the drop on me this time."
Dr. Somers has broken free of my snare. Her own weapon is leveled at me.
"Don’t give yourself so much credit. This parasite must be eliminated."
I know where to begin. The sword wasn’t enough. I look past Dr. Somers to the storage unit it came from. The screen glows with the name of that wretched scientist’s next of kin.
"Paquette . . ."
"Paquette? What does Natalie have to do with anything?"
Her words spark a memory of the MRVN from days prior. Natalie, he called her, or Wattson. A granddaughter of one of his creators.
I stare at the name on the storage unit: Natalie Paquette.
"Always the helpful one, aren’t you, Dr. Somers?"
"I didn’t— Where are you going? I’ll shoot ye, I swear!"
"Then shoot. You are the one who sought me out, demanding answers about your son. Perhaps I will take them with me when you put that bullet in my head."
"You are free to do what you please, but my target is elsewhere."
I hear her lower the weapon. Once again, knowledge prevails. But what I know, the other one knows. Until I rid myself of her, I cannot be what I truly am:
The lightning rod towers over my head. It is a fascinating piece of machinery, and I hate to take it apart. But if I’m right, and this is what I think it is . . .
"Ah, almost . . . come on, you silly thing."
"Got you!"
"Hmm . . . yes, this is it! Magnifique. Tae Joon is going to be so—"
A jolt runs up my back. I look around the platform. Nothing.
"Hello?"
I pick up my energy reader. It . . . can’t hurt to be safe.
There shouldn’t be any prowlers here. Was it just thunder . . . ?
????: "You."
"Ah!"
I spin so fast that I almost trip. At first I only see a shadow at the top of a stairwell. Then, the shadow steps forward, and . . .
". . ."
"Oh, Ash. You scared me. Though I guess . . . that’s not so strange."
"What are you doing here?"
"Paquette."
". . . yes?"
"You are Natalie Paquette, aren’t you? Daughter of Luc Paquette."
"I . . . oui. That’s right. I didn’t expect you to know that."
"I have learned much in recent days. The truth was locked away by neurological programming. I did not know what, or who, I truly was."
"Then, I remembered. Everything."
"Do you remember when I told you I was seeking information? What you said to me?"
". . . well, I . . ."
"I was on a mission to find a memento from my past. The sword used to end my feeble human existence."
". . . !"
"That should not have been my end. The one who killed me was a pathetic fool. I could have bested her easily. But I was cut down by . . . incompetence."
"I reclaimed what she took from me. I smashed the blade she used. It is proof that I am here, and she is not."
"But it . . . woke something in me. It did not affirm my strength, as it should have. It fed a cancer that must be destroyed."
"Her influence—their influence—is still too potent. I will cut through it."
"What—what are you . . . ?"
I step back. She follows me, her feet digging into the ground like spikes. I can see the reflection of storm clouds in the sword she points at me.
"It is not enough to end their line. I will lay bare the rot carried by their name."
Gibraltar. Wraith. Tae Joon . . . anyone . . .
I . . .
"Stay away! I—I’m not afraid to fight."
"Soon I will be free."
"Free of everything dragging me down."
"Starting with you."
She strikes as fast as lightning.
I swing, but hit only air.
All I can see is the gleam off her sword.
And then . . .
I'm falling.
". . . !"
I . . . I’m okay.
The water is warm, but deep. My pylon is heavy and I paddle with all my strength to stay afloat. My chest hurts where she shoved me but . . . no wounds.
When I look up, there are cliffs in front of me, casting everything in shadow.
I have to stare straight up to see the top. The tip of the lightning rod stabs up into the sky.
Ash is standing at the edge of the cliff. Looking right at me.
"Let us begin, Natalie Paquette."
She disappears like she was never there. Now I am really alone. I shiver, even though the water is warm.
I don’t know what is beginning . . .
But I have to find out.
"Zeroes and Ones"[]
Transcript
"You."
". . . !"
"Calm yourself."
"You wanted a partnership, did you not?"
". . ."
"Speak."
"I . . . I’m looking for someone. I need information. Information the Syndicate has."
"So you thought I would betray them?"
"Not betray. There’s . . . something more going on--"
"Save your breath. I have no interest in the Syndicate’s petty dramatics."
"But you show promise. I won’t disregard a worthy pupil."