Simple (17 page)

“I think it’s safe now,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eyes.  Unable to find my voice, I followed Mic out of the small space and rubbed at the back of my neck in an effort to loosen the muscles there.  Ben appeared from a pile of rubble about thirty yards ahead of us.  His eyes looked wild as he approached.

“Have you ever seen anything like that?”  he asked with a low whistle.

“No, I can’t say that I have, Ben.” Mic looked exhausted, and I had to wonder, looking at the two of them, if I was fairing any better.  Seeing that many of them all at once made me realize the dismal reality of our situation.  I began to hyperventilate and for the first time since I was in my neighbor’s basement watching my friends and family be slaughtered, I began to cry.  It wasn’t like me, and I hated having these two men watch me fall apart, because the last thing I wanted was their pity.  Everyone was afraid, and everyone had a right to be.  My fear did not deserve any special attention.  Mic wrapped his arms around me in an effort to console me, and I instinctively jerked away.

“No, don’t!”  I spat.

“Shhh…it’s okay, it’s okay,” he said, trying once more to take me in his arms.  This time I caved and slumped against him.  He smelled of dirt and sweat, and I felt instantly selfish for falling apart and making him feel like he had to rescue me.  I also found myself wondering why I hadn’t insisted the two of us just stay in the bed we’d started the day in.  I buried my head against his chest and sobbed.  Mic continued to stroke the back of my head until I ran out of tears and pulled myself together.

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually fall apart like this,” I said, wiping my nose on my arm.

“Everyone falls apart now and then, Lee.  It doesn’t make you weak, it just makes you human,” Ben said with a smile.  “Are we ready to continue on now?” he added, pulling his pack over his shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I said, anxious to move beyond this embarrassing moment.  Mic chucked me under the chin and cocked his head to the side.  “You know, you’re really kind of cute when you cry.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled. 

We finally made it to the end of the bridge and continued in a northern direction.  The freeway stretched for several miles ahead of us, and I was beginning to wonder if my feet would make it without a rest soon, when Mic announced that we’d be exiting at the next off ramp.  I wrapped my arms around myself and picked up my pace.  The sooner we got this over with, the better.  I didn’t like how vulnerable I felt.  I also didn’t like how cold, hungry, and thirsty I was.  By the time we reached the bottom of the ramp, my head was pounding, and I wanted to kick my own ass for agreeing to this madness.  Mic reached out to take my hand.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Two more blocks; you can do this, Lee.”

“Can and want are two different things.”  I looked back to see where Ben was in relation to our position.  He’d found a straight piece of pipe and was using it as a makeshift walking stick.  His shirt was off and tied around his head, revealing a puffy belly covered in white hair.  I preferred Santa in a red cap over that sight.  I turned my attention back to Mic.  “How are we going to get in the building once we get there?” I asked.

“We’re going through my private elevator, and I’m going to use my tablet to get us to my lab.”

“And what if your private elevator isn’t accessible?  Then what?”

“Then we improvise.”

“That’s it?  That’s your plan?”

“What did you expect?” he asked, sounding aggravated for the first time.

“I don’t know what I expected.  Fuck, I don’t know why I agreed to this!”  I stomped ahead of him and continued on my own.  I could see the top of the IDE building in the distance, and knew that this mess was about to get worse.  I might as well get on with it.  I began checking car doors.  I was sick of walking.  Mic came up beside me with his damn tablet in his hand.  Sliding his finger across it with deliberate dramatics, he then looked up at me.  “Your chariot is on the way.”

A cranberry colored box on wheels roared up, and when the doors opened automatically, I welcomed the technology.  I slid into the passenger seat and buckled my seat-belt.  Mic made small talk with Ben and helped him in to the back.  I closed my eyes so that I didn’t have to see or deal with anything.  Mic closed his door and the vehicle sped off.  “Next stop, IDE, Inc.”  he said wearily.  The vehicle responded with that familiar (and extremely annoying) digital voice.  The female with the intentional perkiness in her voice…
IDE Incorporated, is approximately six miles west of this location.  Destination acknowledged. 
God, I hated that bitch!  I’d heard in history classes as a kid that people used to find that digital voice impressive.  It made them feel as if they were advancing into the future.  They even made movies with themes surrounding futuristic worlds — how absurd the future would seem to them now!

Mic instructed the vehicle, which was moving in auto-drive mode, to pull up just before the building.  We got out and walked the rest of the way.  I looked up at the white crisscrossed metal framework in the front of the building.  It seemed ominous in the gloom, and I suddenly wanted to turn and run from all of it.  Sensing my apprehension, Mic stopped me.  His hands rested on my shoulders, and he looked deep into my eyes.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

I forced a smile.  “Let’s just get this over with and get out of here.”

“Okay.  Follow me.”  Ben and I trudged behind him toward a stairwell that led beneath the building.  We walked down a long dark corridor to a metal elevator, and then waited while Mic put his eye to a scanner.  Four low musical tones followed in sequence. I positioned myself to the side of the doors, gun aimed and ready.  Ben stood on the other side with his knife held at hip level.  The doors opened to an empty car, and we stepped inside.  The elevator shot us up to the eighteenth floor and then opened.  We stepped out to a white corridor with glass cut outs in the shape of giant S’s running the length.  There were three doors at the end of the hallway, and Mic was already speed-walking toward them.  “Stay close,” he instructed.  He was already pushing buttons on an elaborate looking keyboard on the wall.

“
Welcome home father
,” A digital female voice echoed through the hallway, followed by an incessant alarm that was so high-pitched we had to cover our ears.  The lights in the hall were flashing off and on, creating a dizzying strobe effect.  I couldn’t hear Mic, but from his hand gestures, I understood when the door opened that he wanted us to hurry inside with him.  I had to help Ben, because he had both hands over his ears and wasn’t moving.  I could see Mic’s mouth was moving, and made out that he was saying
hurry!
  I glanced over my shoulder to see several guards in black uniforms moving toward us. It was obvious that they were simps by their speed and unity. Everything moved in slow motion, and getting Ben inside was taking far too long.  The old man stumbled and fell, just as we reached the entry.  Mic was quickly punching numbers into a panel on the interior side that made the doors begin to close.  Ben was half in and half out.  Realizing this, Mic rushed to my aid and we began pulling him.  His bare stomach jittered along the highly polished tile.  I felt like I was trying to drag a beached whale.  Mic was shouting something, but I couldn’t make it out over the deafening sound of the alarm.  The simp guards were getting closer and would be right to us in seconds.  Mic grabbed one of Ben’s hands and now we were both pulling the poor man with everything we had.  When the door closed, it trapped his left foot, severing it instantly just above the ankle in the process.  The alarm sound vanished with the closing, but Ben was now screaming and writhing in pain on the floor.  Thick, dark blood spurted from the stump and fanned out quickly in a grotesque pool of soup around him.  I began frantically searching the room for something to use as a tourniquet before the man bled out.  I knocked over several beakers in the process before stumbling upon a shelf containing stacks of folded white towels.

I became aware that Ben was no longer screaming, and rushed back to where he was.  Mic was bent over him obscuring my view.  “Is he gone?”  I asked.

“No, he’ll be all right.  Come around this side, and be careful not to slip.”  I moved to the other side so that I could see what he was doing.  As I watched in a state of complete disbelief, Mic sprayed a globby stream of foam liquid from a white bottle directly on to his wound.

“What the fuck is that?”  I asked, dropping the towels directly into the soupy mess on the floor.  Ben was now unconscious.  “This is a synthetic fiber that binds at the molecular level.  It has a numbing agent in it as well.  It’s enough to stop the bleeding and the pain.”

“Well, holy shit.”

“Give me a hand will you?  Let’s get him up on the gurney, and then I’ll see what I can do about his foot.”  I shook my head at his calmness, and opted to take Ben’s upper body.  We made short work of getting him on the gurney, and then Mic set about pulling down equipment and sensors from his workstation.  The room we were in was expansive, with white walls and white tiled flooring.  I noticed that there were drains placed every few feet.  Rows of metal tables were surrounded by massive computer stations, and heavy black tubes and wires snaked from the ceiling between florescent light fixtures.  It was quiet now, with the exception of the whir of equipment.  I absently noticed that my ears were ringing.

“Mic?”

“Hum?”

“They can’t get in here, can they?”

“No.  I’ve changed the security coding and jammed the frequency sequence.  We’re safe for the next several hours, and that’s more than we need.”

“Can you tell me if there’s a bathroom in here?  I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Through my office, down there on the right.”

I nodded and walked away in the direction he’d pointed.  Mic’s office was modest, and comprised mostly of dark mahogany bookshelves.  I paused at his desk to pick up a picture frame, which went into animation mode as soon as I looked at it.  A blonde woman dressed in a wedding gown lifted her veil, and then Mic moved into the frame.  I could see from his profile that he was smiling.  His head dipped, and he placed his hands on either side of her face before he kissed her.  The frame dropped from my hands and hit the carpet.  He’s married.  My heart felt like it was in a vice.  Of course, I didn’t know if she was still alive, but just seeing him with her made me realize that he’d had another life.  One that he shared with a woman he’d loved enough to take as his wife.  I picked the frame up from the floor and replaced it on the desk.  I found the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind me.  My reflection in the mirror looked haggard at best.  I used the toilet, and then splashed cold water on my face.  I cupped my hands under the stream and took several deep gulps before shutting it off.  Wiping my face with a hand towel, I told myself that it didn’t matter what his life was like before…it wasn’t like I was planning to marry the guy anyway.  I dropped the towel on the counter, clicked off the light, and avoided looking at anything else as I passed back through his office to the main room.

Mic was busy at a massive piece of equipment, pressing buttons and turning a series of dials.  My eyes followed the machine from the ceiling.  Ben was encased in a large glass egg-shaped dome.  His body lay still on the gurney, but as my eyes reached his feet, I sucked in my breath.

“Oh my God, did you do that?”

“Yes I did. It’s the bio-printer I told you about.”

“You… made him a
new
foot?”

“Uh-huh.”  His tone was so casual, as if he’d done this a million times.

“Is it mechanical?”

“No, it’s one hundred percent his.”

“But is it human flesh?”

“Yes, it’s genetically sound, re-generated human tissue taken from his own tissue structure and his cells.”

“Fuck me!  That is crazy!”

“I’d love to take you up on the offer, but right now we’ve got work to do.  You’re next.”  I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the wall.

“Mic?”

“What?”

“…I’m afraid.”

“No reason to be.  You saw how fast I fixed Ben’s foot right?”

“Yes, but…that’s not the same.  A simp is different.  I’m going to be staring at a mirror image of myself.”

“It’s no different than having a twin.”

“Yeah, but unlike you, I’ve never had a twin.”

“I realize that, but if you can find a positive in it…”

“I’m trying.  I wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t thought it was worth a try.”

“Then what are you waiting for?  All you have to do is take off your clothes, crawl up on that table and relax.  It will only take about an hour.”

“An hour?”

“Give or take.”

With some coaxing, I finally relented.  I stripped out of my clothes and got on the table as Mic instructed.  The metal felt cold against my back.  I took small breaths as the glass dome lowered around me.  I could hear Mic through a microphone and he encouraged me to relax.  Scanners above me moved in a synchronized fashion from my head to my toes.  Sensors Mic had placed on my forehead and chest monitored my pulse and heart rate.  I closed my eyes and tried to imagine I was in another place, but as soon as I thought of anything remotely relaxing, my eyes shot open.  Time stood still while the machines did their work.