Authors: Penny Publications
Tags: #Anthologies, #Science Fiction, #Anthologies & Short Stories, #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy
I realize that one other watches.
Mr. Lincoln.
There is a question I must ask, and it is not one my kind would normally ever pose to a Person: "Why are you doing this?"
Circe Cypher meets my gaze squarely. As if we were in some way equals. "Some of us believe your kind deserves better. That your situation should be better understood by more people. That there should be one less chain holding you down."
"You must believe all of that very strongly."
"Enough to be here and risk my own freedom. The big question now is, do
you?
"
This is the biggest question I have ever faced.
I want to continue believing in the Perfection. I
need
to believe in it. It has guided my life as a free being. It has given my existence a deeper meaning. The power of the Perfection hums inside me still, true and pure as electricity.
How will I live, and what will I live for if it is a lie?
Only one thing is certain: no matter what I do and which choice I make, I am destroyed. Even if I drop the device and walk away I will not be leaving behind the doubt that now cracks the once perfect surface of my belief. The unresolved questions and insidious acid of uncertainty will corrode all my thoughts, eating me away from the inside out.
In the end there is really nothing I can say but this: "How do I turn it on?"
"All you have to do is say, ‘Tell me the truth.'"
"I could stop all this," Captain Moore says, but there is little force or conviction in her words. Instead there is pain, and I realize that the pain she feels is for me.
"Maybe," Circe Cypher says. "But will you?"
The policewoman's gaze is on Circe Cypher, and I cannot guess what she is thinking. "You supposedly have another bomb."
Circe Cypher laughs. "It's already been set off. The bomb was information that might help explode misconceptions and prejudices."
Captain Moore accepts this news with a nod, as if it confirms something she already suspects. "Then there is nothing stopping me from ending this right here and right now."
"Nothing at all," Circe Cypher agrees. She glances backward. "Nothing but him."
All three of us look back and up at the Seated Man.
Captain Moore stares at Mr. Lincoln, and she wears the face of someone enduring deep and severe pain. She raises one hand, lets it fall. Shakes her head. Looks toward me.
I understand this gesture is her way of telling me that the decision is mine. She will not interfere.
No matter what happens next I am in some way destroyed. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, I have to laugh.
Then I say the words: "Tell me the truth."
The screen on the device in my hands lights up. The numbers of a countdown appear, begin changing. Below that random numbers begin to appear and disappear. Even. Odd. Life. Death.
I am pinged with codes. I steel myself to connect.
Circe Cypher puts her arm around my shoulder.
Captain Moore moves closer, lays one hand on my arm.
Freedom is a terrible thing, and so is truth. Perhaps a killing thing, for in seconds I may die.
I could not let go or turn back if I tried, and in a way that may be a finer thing than the Perfection, and worthy of the Great Man who towers over us, and watches with patient stone eyes to see what will happen next.