It felt like he had been following the winding path of Taylor’s tracks for hours, going between trees and even around parts of the cliff wall. He found a couple of spent rounds on the forest floor. It looked like Taylor had some kind of powerful handgun and used it on some other unlucky participant. As he took a few steps away, he found the death box to confirm it.
I’m right on your trail, Taylor, Ethan thought. Better look out.
He heard a twig snap from behind him, to his left. His heart leapt as he turned toward the source of the sound. Instinctively, he propped the crossbow up against his shoulder.
His eyes shot wide when he saw the red hair and thick glasses. It was Gauge, the strange man who had told him that the real world was a lie. Ethan didn’t lower his crossbow.
“Ethan,” the man greeted him.
“What are you doing here?” Ethan asked. “What do you want from me?”
He cast a couple glances around the area to make sure Taylor didn’t get the jump on him, now that he was distracted.
“I have to show you something,” Gauge said. His tone was hurried like last time. Ethan couldn’t help but wonder how he had gone undetected by the system for so long if he wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Why?”
“Because I need you to believe me,” the redhead replied.
He put his hand in his coat pocket, and Ethan raised the crossbow a bit higher as a warning. Gauge raised the other hand and moved slower to show that he wasn’t going for a weapon. He retrieved a small rectangle from his jacket. It looked like an old fashioned smartphone — at least a hundred years old.
“Watch this,” Gauge instructed. Then he tapped the front of the rectangle and it came to life. An image appeared on screen, showing a couple of surgeons standing around a feminine form on an operating table.
There was the sound of drilling, and Ethan could see the surgical tools they were working with. Upon closer inspection, he also noticed that the surgeons didn’t seem to be human. They were machines made to resemble people.
Robots, Ethan found himself thinking.
As a couple of the automaton surgeons shuffled out of the way, Ethan could see the patient better. She was young, no more than twenty years old. Her hair was completely shaved off and she was asleep. The terrible buzzing continued, and Ethan noticed a bit of blood on the side of her scalp.
“Who is that?” Ethan said. He felt like he knew her.
“That’s Nadia,” Gauge replied. “Your friend who graduated about six months ago. This is her in the real world.”
“What are they doing to her?” the teenager asked.
“They’re lobotomizing her,” Gauge answered. “They’re destroying her brain.”
Ethan’s face fell. He shook his head as if to say, “No, that can’t be right.” The words never came, though. He looked back down at the screen and saw what they were doing to her.
Gauge turned the screen back to himself, then swiped at it a little with his thumb.
“You also need to see this,” he said, turning the device back so Ethan could view it.
There was a young man, probably still a teenager, suspended in a clear coffin of jelly-like material. Over a dozen wires connected the boy to the container from various parts of his body. Ethan could see similar tanks on either side of the young man.
“I don’t understand,” Ethan said.
“That’s you, Ethan,” Gauge explained. “That’s the real you. And they’re going to destroy your brain next.”
Orders
The sergeant seemed like a stressed-out guy, even for an officer of the law. His bodyshell was a bit larger than both of the women in his office, particularly in the middle. He was designed to look more like a bodybuilder than a cop.
“A neuroscopic recorder?” he asked for clarification. “What for?”
“Best we can understand, they were trying to install themselves,” Abenayo answered. “Everything we were able to find out indicates that it was a central motive for this group.”
“To install themselves?” the sergeant asked. “But why?”
“We’re still doing our best to understand it, but from the information we’ve gathered, they are a religious cult that idolizes installed intelligences,” Abenayo explained. “Our best guess is they believed installing themselves would bring them closer to God.”
“So they killed themselves?” the sergeant asked.
“That’s right.”
“And you,” the sergeant started, addressing Tera. “Did you notice anything else about the cult?”
Tera had been immersed in her thoughts while the other two talked. She couldn’t help but picture the church over and over again. She could see the man with the knife in his neck, staring at her with joyous eyes. It was like something out of a nightmare, and it wouldn’t stop haunting her.
She looked up when she realized they were staring at her.
“Sorry, sir,” she said. “What did you ask?”
“Did you see anything else that could enlighten us about these fanatics?” he asked again. Annoyance crossed his features.
“No, sir,” Tera replied. “Nothing that Officer Abenayo didn’t already comment on.”
“Well, we need to learn something about these freaks,” the sergeant said. “The last thing we want is a bunch of slum dwellers all riled up because they’re afraid of some cult.”
“There’s the matter of recruitment, as well,” Abenayo said. “We’ve seen some flyers for the group around the slums. No doubt a few people will come calling.”
“Good point. We don’t want them surging their numbers. What do you recommend?”
Tera looked over at the office’s door and thought she saw the cultist again, the slit in his throat expanding. She blinked, and he was gone.
Either my eyes are malfunctioning, or I’m losing it, she thought.
“We should start bringing in anyone known to associate with them,” Abenayo answered. “Any flyers, any announcements — we should be taking them all seriously.”
“Should we bring in more officers to patrol the slums?” Tera spoke up. “To keep the people safe, I mean.”
Abenayo and the sergeant looked at her
