Unforgotten(96)

I think back to what I saw on the park bench. When I tried to convince Kaelen that there was more to life than being a machine. Something snapped inside him. He turned into an entirely different person. I surmised that I must have set off some kind of automated reaction that was built in to protect him from the truth.

I never even imagined I might have the same thing buried somewhere in me.

“Buh¸” I try to argue. “How? Wheh did they puh ih in?”

Maxxer presses her lips together. “I have no idea. The agent they sent most likely installed it. Probably after he pulled you from the fire and you were unconscious.”

Yes, I think immediately.

The entire time I was recovering from the burns, he was keeping me sedated with the Modifier. He could have done it at any point during that time.

“Well, anyway,” Maxxer goes on, “my guess is once they figured out I had left you the memory map, they knew I would only allow you access to me. So they created a backup plan. They essentially turned you into an assassin without your knowledge.”

I feel ill. Like I might vomit.

This whole time, I’ve been carrying around a disease. An infestation in my mind. Like a bomb ready to explode. Except I was the bomb.

I thought I had finally escaped them. I thought I’d finally broken free. But no, it was just an illusion of freedom. They’ve been manipulating me from the moment I woke up in that room. From the moment I first laid eyes on Kaelen. And he knew.

He knew it all along.

And yet, even though I want to feel angry at him, I can’t. All I feel is guilt. I judged him for being Alixter’s personal robot. For being a brainless avatar in Alixter’s real-life video game. But in reality, I was no better than him.

I was an avatar, too.

A puppet. Just waiting for Alixter to pull the right string to make me kill someone.

It turns out Zen and I both had the disease of Diotech running through us. Destroying us from the inside. Taking away our life. Our humanity. Our ability to choose our own destiny.

I feel tears welling in my eyes but my cheeks are so numb, I have no idea if they ever fall. My head slumps forward and I can’t get it up again. Although to be perfectly honest, I don’t really try all that hard.

Maxxer places a hand under my chin and props it back up.

Then she reaches out and gently brushes my cheeks. Her hands come back wet. So apparently I am crying.

“It’s okay,” she soothes, her voice melodic and sweet.

“I doh unda-stah,” I say. Now the words are garbled by tears as well as my droopy lips. “Why do they wah to kill yoo?”

But somehow Maxxer understands what I’m trying to ask. “They’ve wanted me dead ever since I left the compound.”

I allow my eyes to close for a moment and immediately regret the decision because I can’t seem to open them again.

“Get me a 50 ml of Zellex. The sedative is too strong. I need her conscious.”

I can feel sleep tugging at my mind. Inviting me into its warm, comfortable bed. Then I feel a sharp stab in my arm and a few moments later, my appendages start to awaken. There’s sensation in my legs again. I try to lift my arm. It rises slowly and then falls again. I open my eyes. Focusing is decidedly easier.

“Thank you.” I breathe out, grateful to be able to form complete words again.

“You’re welcome.”

Maxxer is still kneeling in front of me. I notice the splinters of glass have been cleared away. She stands and walks back to the bar, pouring herself another serving of her weird green energy drink.

“Why do they want you dead?” I ask, watching her pace, the glass clutched tightly in her hands. I get the sense things have not exactly been going her way thus far.

“Essentially because ever since I left the compound I’ve been trying to destroy them.”

“Destroy Diotech?” The feat seems nearly impossible.

She shakes her head. “Not just Diotech. But the people controlling Diotech.”

I think back to the first conversation I had with Maxxer. In her storage unit. She mentioned she had a suspicion someone else was funding the company and pulling the strings. But she had indicated she didn’t know who it was.

“You figured out who Alixter is working for,” I realize aloud.

She stops pacing long enough to flash me a cunning smile. “Actually, I already knew.”

“You did?”

She nods. “There’s a group of very influential individuals, some of the wealthiest, most important people in the world. They call themselves the Providence. No one knows much about them because they stay almost completely under the radar. But it’s rumored that they’ve had their hands in every war, every political election, every economic crisis for decades. Some people believe they control everything. Most of these people are labeled crazy conspiracy theorists and quickly discounted. Which is a shame, because it’s the truth.”