《The Prototype》


 Prologue & Chapter 1: Meeting Amahle

    Prologue


    I cannot outrun my crimes. I know that I will be caught one day. I will be tried and punished¡ªin reverse order if the jury is feeling displeased. Until that day, I will keep running. My feet will bleed, my lungs will burn, and I will still run. Perhaps I can escape if I¡¯m clever enough, but I know that¡¯s just wishful thinking.


    You may have seen the CEO of the company speaking on the news¡ªa man as big as a moose with a voice as powerful as a howler monkey. You may have heard him say things that worry you and incriminate me. I won''t tell you he''s a liar, but he''s a damn annoying man. What he always neglects to tell you is that I served the public, and without me he would be a dictator instead of a victim. My name is Nathaniel Hensley, and I was¡ªfor a brief time¡ªthe most wanted man in the world.


    Chapter 1: Meeting Amahle


    The large glass doors swung open without a sound, and I stepped onto the tiled floor of Antler Industries. There was a spacious waiting area that connected to a staircase and three elevators. Everything in the building was made to impress¡ªthe ceiling so high a giraffe could run freely. I took a seat at a couch without speaking to anyone. I was comfortable waiting. I had always been patient. I picked up a brochure and began reading. On the first page there was a list of catch-phrases--my favorite of them being ''Robot dreams are made in RAM-sleep.''


    "Mr. Hensley, we are so happy to have you here!" the man behind the desk yelled out across the lobby. His voice was high-pitched and happy, which I imagined was a favorable trait for someone of his position. He had a bushy beard and wore a surprisingly expensive suit. I left my seat and walked toward him.


    "Happier to see you, Will," I replied. He looked surprised that I knew his name, but I had good enough vision to read the name on the desk.


    "Wow, you are just like they said. Here''s your pass," he said while handing me a lanyard with a plastic rectangle attached¡ªmy name printed in bold. "First I''ll show you your office, and then you''ll be going up to the fifth floor to meet with the developers. Oh, golly! They are just going to love you," he added cheerfully.


    "Thank you, Will. I hope you''re right." I put the name tag on and went to the elevator. Will walked with me, his smile never fading. I didn¡¯t mind. In my previous job, people smiled professionally. I suppose he was the same.


    Within a minute, I was stepping out onto the third floor, which struck a different chord with me. It was wooden and laden with art across the walls. The windows were large, but there was no glare. One could hardly imagine a nicer design.


    "Okay, so you''ll be just up ahead," Will said while pointing down the hallway. As he followed me, I wondered if every floor had its own theme. Companies like this had their way of knowing customers, giving the ignorant joy and the aware a sense of dread. However, there was no company like Antler. They knew more than anyone was aware.


    After I toured my pristine office, Will sent me up to the fifth floor. He went back to his desk and I waved him goodbye. I had been told before that my first task would be coordinating with the team working on the newest version of their flagship phone. They had all the requisite software and hardware improvements necessary to impress buyers and satisfy shareholders, but they didn''t want to plateau¡ªthey wanted to soar. I was brought on board to make that happen, which I could do easily.


    I found the room I was told to find over email, ''Buffering Development''. It was funny¡ªmaking me wonder if they had outsourced the joke. When I opened the door, I found a woman speaking to the room.


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    "...While we should be focusing on speed. With that comes everything else," she explained. In my limited experience, these topics invited the most boring of orators. Yet even I was looking at the graph she was pointing to¡ªthough its meaning was a mystery. She was intense. Her eyes lingered on each audience member just long enough for them to feel no choice but listen. Not a soul had noticed my entrance, as they were all transfixed on the presentation. It wasn''t until the speaker turned her head that I was finally caught.


    "Nathaniel Hensley! So good to finally meet you!" she said before jogging to shake my hand. The others stood awkwardly as they waited¡ªreminiscent of kids waiting to list facts about themselves. I heard some mumbling, but it seemed she was the main source of noise in the room.


    "Likewise. You must be Amahle Imada." She nodded without breaking eye contact. I knew her from the emails, meaning I already knew she was the COO. She was older than I was, but only slightly. She had a powerful voice, but it felt natural. She was electrifying.


    "Everyone, this is our new marketing man. Don¡¯t roll your eyes, he¡¯s actually good at what he does.¡± Turning back to me, she continued. ¡°You got here at a great time. We were just talking about some key topics." She looked at me with a grin before laughing. "Kidding! It''d bore your head off¡ªI know that. Let''s go for a walk." I followed behind her as she left the room full of nerds hanging. I didn''t know where we were going, but it didn''t matter.


    "I didn''t mean to interrupt back there, Ms. Imada. I was told to¡ª"


    "Shut up and listen to me," she responded without any change in tone or volume. My gait paused, but she kept walking and I caught back up. Her stride was urgent, but her face looked upbeat.


    "What is it?" I asked her. This hadn''t been briefed to me in the emails.


    "How much do you know about our liquid intel?" Her face looked the same as before, a fact that was beginning to bother me.


    "I heard it was some invention that¡¯s going to be included in the new generation of..." I stopped as I tried to remember the term, "Sim cards?"


    "Close. It''s going to be in our new flagship models, but not on the cards. The public knows roughly as much as you do¡ªjust that it''s going to be in their lives from now on. It''s been disheartening to see how few people are curious about what it does. They just trust it''s good.


    "And it isn''t?" I questioned. I had multiple products from Antler, one being in my pocket. Instead of a reassuring answer, Amahle paused.


    "That''s not the issue. When you were working fashion, did you ever sell a brand-new item without a question? When you signed a client, did they ever trust you completely?" Her face glanced towards me, but she kept on walking. I knew she wanted to glare at me until I answered, but that would be too suspicious.


    "No, I can''t say those things happened," I replied. In the back of my mind, I was getting the feeling she already knew my answer.


    "Exactly, and that makes sense. Sellers are supposed to doubt buyers. Have you ever read the paper ''Market for Lemons''?" Again I shook my head. "Well, it''s the reason you test drive a car before you buy it," Amahle added. I could tell she was disappointed that she had to explain so much. "People buying the cars just don''t know enough about them to judge them, and sellers take advantage." She stopped talking¡ªwhich took me a few seconds to realize was a cue to jump in.


    "Oh, you''re the one selling the bad product?"


    "Not bad, but not understood," she replied. I was confused by what she said¡ªbut I was more confused as to why she was telling me about it. I noticed that we had circled back around, or perhaps the hallway was rectangular in nature, and we were close to the conference room once again. Perhaps she had timed it like this, so as to not raise suspicion with a long absence.


    "Ah, so you want me to sell the idea to the public? I can do that," I proclaimed with a self-congratulatory feeling. She stopped outside the door, her hand resting on the handle, face disappointed.


    "How did you jump to that?¡± She asked, letting slip a look of confusion. Without letting me respond, she continued, ¡°I don''t want it to reach the public. They may not understand the technology, but I do. The developers here are all kept in the dark about it. They only know bits and pieces, but not the whole picture. I''m telling you, Nathaniel, this isn''t the sort of thing that should be out there. Not yet." This time, she wasn''t happy. She wasn''t pretending.


    "I need you to steal it."

 Chapter 2: Questions and Answers

    Chapter 2: Questions and Answers


    The story of Anders Askeland is a fascinating one, perhaps because he was born with a righteous confidence that was unrivaled by any figure in any mythos in history. What separated him from Narcissus is that his belief in himself was earned. He began his entrepreneurial adventure in Norway when he was four, selling chocolate to other kids that he got for free from his parents. He made a killing¡ªbut was reprimanded when his business was discovered. From there, he decided to take things more seriously. By the time he was seven, he was financially independent.


    Anders wasn''t interested in the money. He did what he did because he thought it was unavoidable. He was convinced that if the universe was deterministic, it had determined he must be a success. And without a doubt, he was a success. By the time he finished his studies, he had enough money to buy his university. He decided it wasn''t worth it. The weak and unwise were afraid of him, and the rest wanted to follow him. Nobody knew what his end goal was, and what he would do once he reached it.


    By the age of thirty, Anders had built Antler Industries from the ground up. He hired people he thought were capable, not those whom he liked. He ran his company effectively, not kindly. He was honest, but blunt. Nobody liked him, and everyone respected him. I didn''t meet him for the first three weeks of my job, as he was flying around the world to meet with powerful and influential people. Of course, none of these people were as powerful or influential as he was.


    After my first day, I had tried to meet with Amahle once more¡ªto ask her what she meant and what she wanted me to do, but I had no luck. It appeared that she had more important matters to attend to. In that time, I had worked on selling products to clients. As expected, I was doing well¡ªso well, in fact, that I had been asked to meet with Anders. The slack-jawed faces of the developers when they heard let me know this was a big deal.


    ¡°He asked for you directly?¡± one questioned.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t ask. He says. He directs,¡± another corrected. The developers were prone to drama and exaggeration, most likely because, despite their important work and envious paychecks, they had no clue what they were doing and who they were doing it for. They were bored.


    ¡°I suppose I was directed to meet with him then,¡± I added, trying to stop an argument before it happened.


    ¡°Well, good luck.¡± They both smiled, content in their boredom and safety. Perhaps their feelings were wise. It¡¯s never a good idea to meet the man upstairs.


    I exited the top floor of Antler Industries wearing my tailored suit and my sky-blue tie. This was my first time seeing this floor¡ªwhere only the boss worked. He had an assistant, but they stayed on the floor below and had to sprint up if a delivery was to be made. It was an extravagant space, the interior embroidered with gold and silver and a wood that was worth even more. While I walked across it, I thought how much of a waste it must be. He was rarely here, and yet he demanded what only pharaohs asked for. I was envious.


    When I knocked on his door, a booming voice rang out.


    "Come in." I followed his directions and stepped foot in his space. He sat on a great throne. Behind him was a window that showed the entirety of the city, a view that would have scared many if they got too close. Anders sat next to it, facing me. He wasn''t afraid of what was behind him.


    "It''s a pleasure to meet you," I said. He locked eyes with me, his gaze sharp and critical. I resisted the urge to look away.


    "Yes, I imagine it is," he replied while looking off. "I hear you have been doing excellent work. Excellent." He went silent, looking off at nothing. "I wanted to speak to you, Nathaniel."


    "I''m happy to talk," I replied. "May I say, your office is more beautiful than I imagined." He smiled, not yet meeting my eyes again.


    "You are good at flattery. But I''ll tell you now¡ªthere is no need to flatter me. Everything I make is beautiful. I appreciate that you feel comfortable saying it, but it doesn''t change what I know." Anders took a deep breath, which must have been two times the air a normal human could inhale. "Can you guess what I wanted to speak about, Nathaniel?" He was using my name consistently, taking his sweet time with his words, and controlling the conversation. I had never felt that way talking to someone.


    "A new product? I just finished working on the phone. The devs seemed happy with it." I knew this wasn''t what he was aiming for, but I wanted to remind him I was an asset.


    "Let¡¯s talk about Amahle Imada," he said, turning his head in my direction. I felt a chill. Not knowing what he thought was his strength. More often than not, I wagered, people told him information before he even asked for it. I didn''t break. I wanted to, but I didn''t know enough to be guilty.


    "I''ve been trying to get in contact with her. I assumed she was busy," I replied. He stared at me, his olive eyes unmoving. I wondered if he was actually seeing me or if I was simply another wall to gaze at.


    "Yes, I know why," he said. "Amahle is indeed busy. Do you know why I made her the COO, Nathaniel?" He waited, but not long enough for me to conjure an answer. "You may have noticed that she is young, more so than all the others that wanted the position. She reached her position because, just like you, has something that this company lacks."


    "Lacked," I corrected.


    "No, Nathaniel. Lacks," he commanded. "You have been here a short time, and your work has been satisfactory. But when you were hired, I wanted someone who was too clever for this company. I wanted someone who was built for a different industry, an industry built on subjectivity. How did you sell your suits and dresses? By being logical? No, you succeeded by appealing to the weakest side of the consumer. The ego." He finally took his eyes off me, so I was allowed a look of annoyance. "My company thrives because we have the best products, and it''s not up for debate. It''s objective. It''s truthful." As condescending as his words were, I could tell he wasn''t even considering me when he spoke.


    "What about Amahle?" I asked.


    "What about her?" He retorted. I didn''t know if he had already moved on or if this was a game.


    "What do you want her to bring to the company?"


    "Amahle is intelligent, but unlike you, she cares about transparency." I hid my contempt at the statement, but he was right. "I hired her because transparency is no one''s first instinct. I won''t have this company be stagnant. She is a constant hurdle for my employees to work around, which is what I want." He paused and stood up, his size dwarfing the city in the background. "She has yet to meet my expectations, but I''m sure she will." Even though his words were hopeful, I was worried.


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    "Why has Amahle been busy?" I questioned. He strolled to the window, looking down at the street. He knocked on the glass a couple of times, making a slight ringing sound. Then, with a sudden wave of strength, he broke the glass with a punch. The air gushed in and I instinctively backed away from him. I wasn''t afraid of heights, but I was afraid. Anders turned back toward me, his face composed and impossibly reasonable.


    "Watch," he suggested. I didn''t know where he wanted me to direct my attention, but I suddenly saw the broken window begin to fix itself. The glass rippled, as the hole Anders had created filled itself in. Within five seconds, it became a perfect window once more. Anders never looked back at it. He stood still, waiting for my inevitable curiosity.


    "Nathaniel," he said. "This is just one way our technology will out-compete the rest. This is what Amahle is working on, and why I hired her."


    "But what is it?" I asked. "Is every window alive? What about this door?" I began pointing around the room. "What about your chair? How does it work?"


    He looked at me softly. "Nathaniel, you aren''t the most savvy tech mind in this company. It''s not your job. Why do you need to know?" He waited for an answer, and I knew he wanted a good one.


    "You haven''t told the developers," I replied, calming myself down. "That means that you aren''t confident of something." My mind raced, trying to come up with his reasons. "Whatever it is, you know that as soon as it''s on the market, it''s free game. Any company will be able to figure it out. But you''re going to have to release it sooner or later, and every day is another risk for a leak. So you want me to be the one to pitch the idea," I concluded, feeling victorious.


    "My oh my," Anders grumbled. I could have sworn the floor began to shake at that moment. "I do not lack confidence in my business, Nathaniel Hensley."


    "I didn''t mea¡ª"


    "I brought you here because I know you can succeed," he continued. "There is a key difference between doubt in myself and confidence in others. I can see you''re sharp, but it seems you think too lightly of me."


    "No, I wouldn''t say¡ª"


    "It''s either that or you think too highly of yourself," he interrupted once more. "Is that not how this works? You assume to know me, I assume to know you." He sat back down, though it didn''t do much to calm my nerves. "As for everything else you said, it is more or less true. I am giving you the chance," he paused, "to pitch this idea. As you have seen first-hand, it is unlike anything you have ever sold. This means that it has the highest potential of any product we have."


    "Right," I muttered. "I can see its potential. I think it would be better, perhaps, if I knew what it was," I added. Anders paused, as if going through the steps in his head. Then the most important man in the world laughed; a deep, full laugh that may have confused atheists on the streets down below.


    "I suppose you''re right! It must be so confusing to you, but it''s not as complex as you might think. The process to make it was, but you don''t need to know all the nitty-gritty." With a swiftness only matched by excited youth, Anders stood back up. "It''s much too boring to explain in here, so why don''t we go on a walk?"


    "Okay," I responded. I didn''t know why everyone at the company liked explaining things on walks, and I was beginning to worry that he might ask me to steal something too.


    "Fantastic, let''s get going!" He exclaimed while swiftly donning his jacket. "I always want to see the city when I''m here. Come on now," he added while standing next to the window. It took me a moment to process his words. Maybe the oxygen was thin up here, forty-something floors up. Next to him was now a glass elevator, doors open.


    "Wait, where are we going?"


    My adrenaline rushed as we descended to the ground in a see-through box. I didn¡¯t show my nervousness, but I did let out a laugh. Anders didn¡¯t say a word. He stood still, looking out. Echo City was, if one cared for quality of life and technological prowess, the best city in the entire world. This was due in large part to him. I wondered if he considered the city his, or if it wasn¡¯t up to his standards yet.


    Once we landed, Anders Askeland and I stepped out onto the corner of 7th and 49th street. The sidewalk, usually bustling with citizens like huddling insects, was clear. I followed his direction, quickening my pace to keep up with his long strides.


    ¡°Did you have any peculiar dreams when you were a child, Nathaniel?¡± Anders asked.


    ¡°Peculiar? I suppose I wanted to go to the moon. Is wanting to be an astronaut peculiar?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he replied without skipping a beat. ¡°When I was a child, I had only one grievance. Anything I did would not last forever. Permanence was an illusion. It did not provide me solace that everyone else suffered the same fate, just like a meteor destroying humanity is not better than a bullet killing one. All I dreamt of was that whatever I did, it would last.¡±


    ¡°That is peculiar,¡± I replied. Anders crossed the street as the light turned. We entered a public park, kept to the finest detail. Here, I was reminded that others lived in this city. Though they had probably never met him, the strangers we passed stayed a respectful distance from Anders Askeland instinctively. All throughout the walk, I had the distinct feeling that this park, this city, was manicured. I had been living here for weeks now, but never had I noticed the wide walkways or the tall archways. It was strange.


    ¡°Early on, I also realized that I could not solve this dilemma on my own, as much as I wished to. Thus, Antler,¡± he said with a small gesture. I stared at him. Antler made everything, from cars to medicine to the most dangerous of weapons. For him to summarize its reason for existence as something so pure, so simple, I could hardly believe it. However, Anders Askeland was not known to lie.


    ¡°Is that the technology you¡¯re introducing now?¡± I prodded. He paused, as though he had heard something out of place.


    ¡°Nathaniel Hensley. Charismatic agent, over-achieving, overconfident, clever son of a bitch.¡± He looked at me, straight-faced. ¡°That¡¯s what I first heard about you. That was the report. I can agree with the first part, but I¡¯m hoping you can prove the rest to me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not the very last part.¡±


    ¡°Even the last part.¡± He stopped talking and smiled. I wondered how often he smiled. It was an action that only appeared as a coincidence to a being as focused as he, a momentary misfire in his path toward his destination. Then, as quickly as it arrived, it disappeared. ¡°That is the new technology. It is the gift of eternal wonder, of awe immortal.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an algorithm?¡± I asked. His face showed disappointment, just like Amahle¡¯s had. I was beginning to question my constant questioning.


    ¡°Such a broad term, Nathaniel. Saying yes would mean I lump my invention in with a program that wins games of chess. How about this?¡± Anders waved at the surrounding garden. ¡°If we consider these plants as intelligent, we must also say they can solve problems. This venus fly-trap, say, can count better than many of my employees. It is quick, and its mistakes are rare. It is limited, but it can solve problems. However, it cannot do so forever. If it is damaged severely enough,¡± Anders wrapped his hand around the base of the plant and ripped it from the soil. He set it back down, its leaves burying themselves in fear. ¡°It can no longer do anything. Its proudest capability is now impossible, all because of a mishap in its internal system. Anything with any importance is fragile, Nathaniel! People have associated these two aspects so much that they have accepted it as unassailable, as something good! ¡®Life is only worth living because it is finite.¡¯ These are the words of one whose brain is split between reason and joy!¡± Anders stopped himself and looked up. ¡°I do not blame them. For most of our history, it would have been impossible to do what I have done.¡±


    ¡°So the window earlier. The new phones, they¡¯ll repair themselves?¡± I asked. Anders looked back, his eyes meeting mine.


    ¡°They will have the capability. Finally, something will have the capability.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have taken you as someone who would make something so depressing,¡± I thought aloud. For the first time, Anders looked confused.


    ¡°Depressing?¡± He blinked, silent, as if words escaped him.

 Chapter 3: A Place Like Home

    Chapter 3: A Place Like Home


    When I first arrived in Echo City, it was pouring rain. Despite the weather, I unboarded the plane and was out the airport doors more quickly than any other city I had been to. I didn¡¯t bring an umbrella, as most hadn¡¯t, but there was no need. Free umbrellas were stuffed into containers for anybody to take. This wasn¡¯t charity or purity of heart. If one wished, they could indeed steal an umbrella, though hardly anybody did. The process was simple: scan the umbrella when you take it, and when you drop it off after you¡¯re done, you get paid a small amount. The umbrellas were made by Antler and the fee was covered by Antler and Echo City, and because the two were intertwined, it wouldn¡¯t be inaccurate to say Antler constructed the entire system. In the end, because the city profited, so did Antler.


    I grabbed an umbrella and walked out onto the street, humming with the uninterrupted flow of traffic. Everything ran smoothly in Echo. There was talk that car insurance was unnecessary if only Echo didn¡¯t cover the cost already. I waved down a cab and entered. Though the city was famous, and for all the right reasons, I had never visited before. I took in the sights behind the touch-screen window. Even as water poured down relentlessly, I could see the lights perfectly. Every alleyway was modern and sleek. From a distance, I could see the fifty-something floors of architectural genius: the headquarters of Antler Industries. The taxi pulled up to the curb and I got out, thanking the driver and opening my umbrella. No matter how transparent the window, it¡¯s always different to look with the naked eye. Echo City was a wonder. A bright, overwhelming, utopian wonder.


    That day, of course, I met Amahle. That night, I slept poorly.


    A week later, I got up early in the morning. It was no longer raining, but there were still some clouds overhead. The weather was fickle here, but with advanced enough technology, a society can manage all hurdles. I dressed in my third-nicest suit and headed out to work. The sidewalk was crowded with people and I felt as though some of them looked at me more than a stranger ought to, but I suppose that always happened to me. Stealing attention was easy when you possessed confidence and the right clothes.


    Still, I was not feeling my usual self. Amahle Imada told me to commit a crime against the company I just started working for. To make it worse, it was a company best known for its groundbreaking inventions. If there was any place for a thief to avoid, it was Antler Industries. It had the most expensive items to loot, but those same items were often used to make theft more impossible. I would have preferred Amahle ask me to rob a complete skeleton of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, bone by bone.


    I stopped at a cafe on my way to work. I preferred to walk, and considering it was only a few blocks away, I often had extra time to think. The scent of the nearby Heliotropes danced into the building, blending with the aromas of a bustling morning. It was a kind establishment, such that it stood out among the myriad of well-run neighbors.


    ¡°Hey Nate!¡± A barista chirped as I walked in. I had only been here twice so far, but the customer service was as advanced as the coffee machine. I ordered my steaming, delicately brewed drink and tipped before leaving.


    I had considered Amahle¡¯s request many times since my first day. It didn¡¯t make much sense for my interests as an employee, nor hers. I was drawn to agree with her, either because of her demeanor or because of some other reason. I took a sip of my coffee, sighing as I tasted what I had come to expect of this city.


    I swiveled my head at the sound of a car honking. A crash was narrowly avoided, and I could see the angry faces of the drivers. It was the first time I heard that noise since I moved here. I went back to my drink and kept walking. I rounded the block and approached the entrance of Antler. Above me, I could see the sun peeking through.


    ¡°Everything okay, Mr. Hensley?¡± asked the ever-present, happy Will. He must have gotten here early to look as awake as he did. I didn¡¯t even see a tea or coffee on his desk, so his energy was mystifying.


    ¡°Good morning, Will. Everything is okay. Still getting used to the city, I suppose.¡± The caffeine was finally taking effect, so I was able to behave as I normally would. Will looked at me for a moment.


    ¡°When I first moved here, I felt lost for months. Echo City is great, but it takes a while for a place to become home.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right about that.¡± I started to walk by him, but I stopped. ¡°Hey Will, do you remember meeting Amahle?¡±


    ¡°Ms. Imada? Of course!¡± Will exclaimed. ¡°She arrived with quite a lot of controversy, so she was greeted by a lot of people outside. I imagine she expected it, since she was made second-in-command right away.¡± Will sat back in his chair and smiled. ¡°She answered every question they asked her, even some that were insulting. She first got here at noon and didn¡¯t leave until it was dark. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it. I remember thinking she might get applauded for her performance, but alas¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite an entrance,¡± I replied. It was hard to believe the woman who was so open to the press had just asked of me something so secretive and hidden. Will picked up on my pensive expression.


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    ¡°Yours wasn¡¯t bad either, Mr. Hensley. Much more calm. Things don¡¯t need to be exciting to be good.¡±


    I laughed. He was appeasing me for no offense. The rest of the day went smoothly. Two weeks later, I met with Anders. That night, I didn¡¯t sleep at all.


    When the sun arose the next morning I still had too much on my mind. Since parting with the boss, I spent all my time agonizing over what to do. Which might be normal for some, but I had the law to consider. There wasn¡¯t much reason to go along with Amahle Imada, who was impossible to reach. On the other hand, there was Anders Askeland, a figure so imposing that going against him took either courage or insanity. I wondered which Amahle had. The suit I chose was the best of my selection, resembling a dark red in certain lighting.


    I exited my apartment to the bright light of an unimpeded sun. I shielded my eyes, beginning to feel the lingering effects of adrenaline wearing off. Coffee was a necessity. Those I walked by stared at me. Usually just a dull rumbling in the background, the traffic was louder today. Even the conversations of those around me were magnified, timing with perfect imperfection with the overcrowded screeches and honks around me. I dashed into the cafe, seeing the same barista I saw the day prior.


    ¡°Nate! A bit late today, huh?¡± He asked with a suspicious grin. I grabbed my coffee, hot enough to burn. Usually just the smell of caffeine would release dopamine in my brain, but it felt as though nothing would relieve me of my stress.


    What ought I do? Such a question is easy for those who are asked of them only the most basic of human actions. They are the majority, living easily and needing not think deeply. For me, and sparingly few others, this question deserves attention. I am faced with agreeing with only one of two of the most important people in the world. To the best of my ability, I cannot think of how to satiate both of their hungers. I must choose.


    The sidewalks were not only littered with people, but with the recently parted petals of the Heliotropes. I walked directly toward my workplace, though I did stop once to look around. I felt something near, different than the many eyes of the citizens. This was not the first time I checked my surroundings, but paranoia was a reselient monster. Other than strange looks, I did not see anything out of place. Echo City was different today. I entered through the front door.


    I spotted Will before he saw me. He was writing, his brows furrowed. I watched him for a moment before I spoke.


    ¡°Hello, Will.¡± Although I assumed control of the conversation, I knew I couldn¡¯t trick him. I was tired. Will¡¯s head popped up, and his focus turned into a smile.


    ¡°Mr. Hensley!¡± His face then dropped. ¡°Mr. Hensley, you don¡¯t look well.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m late. Rough night last night.¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be all. You¡¯re wearing the finest suit I¡¯ve seen you wear yet, but your face is full of anxiety. I¡¯ve heard your work has been so good you¡¯re ahead of schedule. But even if that weren¡¯t the case, you¡¯re allowed a bad day.¡±


    His eyes conveyed only empathy, desperately asking me to reveal what my problems were so he could help. I was tempted, but this was not a subject I could talk about with just anyone. I wasn¡¯t even sure I should talk about it with Amahle. Still, I did want to talk.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you heard that I met with the boss.¡± Will only nodded. ¡°I watched interviews of him before, but it was a different experience in person.¡±


    ¡°The last thing anything wants, Mr. Hensley, is for you to not be in the right state of mind. Lots of the developers tell me they enjoy working with you. Compared to the previous people who held your position, these are outrageous compliments.¡± It was a nice sentiment, though I wouldn¡¯t have guessed otherwise. I sipped the last of my coffee as I continued to wait for the chemicals to take hold.


    ¡°How did Dorothy know which road to take?¡± I asked, languidly.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Responded Will with a justified confusion.


    ¡°In the book, why was she convinced that she should take the yellow brick road?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Will laughed. ¡°If I remember correctly, the Good Witch told her to take it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why she chose it, but why was she convinced? After all, I¡¯m not convinced she was such a good witch. She was happy that someone died¡ªa fellow witch, at that.¡± I realized that I was not behaving as I normally would, but a consequence of exhaustion is a shift in personality. Whether or not it was more close to the truth was a consideration for a more well-rested brain.


    ¡°I suppose she didn¡¯t have proof. You¡¯re right about that. The Good Witch did have quite a few supporters, which could be considered proof of a sort. What made you think of that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m wondering how to choose. That¡¯s all. How did you choose to come work here?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy. I received an offer and flew over the same day,¡± Will said. He was a much more spontaneous person than I would have imagined. He waited for me to ask yet another question, but I had none. ¡°One thing I know is that any good decision is a decision you would hope someone else would make.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know.¡± I let out a small laugh, and Will¡¯s face lit up. He had spent all that time connected to what was going through my mind.


    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s some news I¡¯m supposed to give you. In a few days, there will be a press conference with Mr. Askeland. All I¡¯ve been told is that it¡¯s quite important and that it has to do with the new product.¡±


    This was surprising. I was aware that Anders was eager to get his invention out into the world, but I was unaware he was this close to production. He didn¡¯t mention this to me yesterday, which meant he either didn¡¯t want me too informed, or he scheduled this suddenly.


    ¡°Thanks Will¡ªfor the news and for the advice.¡±


    He chuckled softly. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I helped at all, but you¡¯re welcome! I¡¯m sure whatever decision you make will work out.¡±


    I smiled at him, threw away my coffee, and went to work. That night, I slept.

 Chapter 4: The Man Who Knew Me

    Chapter Four: The Man Who Knew Me


    It was the day I walked into the building that he took note of me. No¡ªprobably before, back when I was first contacted. That was when he learned of my existence. I didn''t know him, but he was determined to know me. He was aware of my failures and the successes that outweighed them. He knew of my personality, my goals, and given his talent for the job, he may have known what was going through my mind.


    It was not my charisma that had piqued the suspicions of the man, nor was it my extensive connections. It was all the things he couldn¡¯t figure out. It was my meeting with the boss. I wasn¡¯t the only one the man had an eye on, but there weren¡¯t many who were called up to the top floor. It was lucky for me he hadn¡¯t looked too closely at my first meeting with Amahle, but he was looking now, and he was driven by some sort of demon to not let anything pass him by.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± I said to the receptionist. It was a cold, bright morning. Such was to be expected of the season. I held in my hand a half-full cup of coffee.


    ¡°And to you, Mr. Hensley,¡± replied the receptionist. I stopped.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t met you before. Are you new?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve worked here for a while. I think our paths just haven¡¯t crossed. My name is Cordovan Herring.¡± He was young, with a sharp face and a striped bowtie.


    ¡°Ah, well it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Cordovan. Is Will okay?¡± I asked. Cordovan nodded calmly.


    ¡°Just a short break from what I¡¯ve heard. I¡¯m sure everything is okay.¡± He studied my face as if waiting for a certain response. I gave him nothing. I was hoping that, unlike Amahle, Will would be reachable. ¡°Mr. Hensley, there¡¯s someone here to see you.¡±


    ¡°Here?¡±


    ¡°Not inside. She told me to have you meet her outside.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure she¡¯s here for me?¡± I questioned, already feeling a dread set in.


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± he droned. ¡°I¡¯ve never met someone that stern. Even so, she left a note so there would be no doubt.¡± He held up a piece of paper, which drew from my mouth an instinctual sigh. I took the note, stuffing it in my front pocket. ¡°Is this bad news?¡± asked Cordovan.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope not.¡±


    I walked back into the brisk morning air. I hadn¡¯t brought a coat for the short commute, instead relying on my blazer and a warm coffee. I was worried, and for good reason. I had been asked to commit a crime, after all. I couldn''t imagine this meeting being about anything else. What brought me some calm, however, was that this wasn''t the first time I had felt this way. I searched the surrounding area. Before I could say anything, a voice called out.


    "Nathaniel Hensley." It wasn''t a question like they weren''t sure of my existence. It was a command to start the conversation.


    "Henrietta! It''s wonderful to see you!" I responded with as fake a smile as I could muster. She glared back at me, clearly annoyed. "Detective Henrietta," I amended.


    "You look stressed," Henrietta said bluntly. Her brashness was her flaw and her strength, and the reason she had never mixed her personal and professional life.


    "And you look fantastic!" I said enthusiastically. I held up the paper so she could see.


    "Any reason you wrote ''GRAY'' in such a large font? It¡¯s somehow clear and vague at the same time. Downright creepy."


    "I thought it was clear. My last name is Gray, and it fits the tone of my visit," she replied. I almost made a quip about her attempted wordplay, but I thought better of it.


    "Visit? This is casual?" I questioned with some hope.


    "This time around, yes." She reached into her pocket. Out of it came a cellphone, scratched up and dirty. "I did find this earlier, if you''re interested." Her following stare was meant to catch any distress on my face. It was a game we had played far too often.


    "You need to upgrade," I replied casually.


    "Nathaniel, you called this a week ago." Henrietta sighed, letting slip her constant aura of criticism. "I tracked it down to a damn cargo ship, which was no fun at all. Now tell me, what was the call for?"


    "Wrong number," I said. She didn''t turn angry, which was new.


    "Nathaniel, how long have I known you?" she asked. Not ''how long have we known each other''. To her, I was something she observed. My actions were recorded for future reference and prediction. I wasn''t more than a science experiment.


    "Well, it''s hard to tell when the years have been so wonderful. Time flies when having fun. It disappears when you''re around, Henrietta."


    "Ten years," said the conversational equivalent of a rock.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Alright then."


    "Ten years, and you still think you''re smarter than I am. I don''t get sad, but if I were capable of such an emotion, I might feel sad for you."


    "That''s not really sadness, though, is it? It''s more like, I dunno, sympathy."


    "Who did you call?" Henrietta was always like this, ignoring what I said if it wasn''t the answer she wanted. On occasion, I wondered what it was like to go on a date with her. Those occasions were rare.


    "What I''m wondering is, do you track down every call that I make? Now I feel bad for all those delivery drivers. I should tip them more.¡± I waited for a laugh that would never arrive. ¡°Wasn¡¯t this visit casual?"


    "This call, Nathaniel, was made to someone I don''t know. It''s quite clear you''re hiding it, so stop making jokes."


    "Okay, fine. It was a work call," I stated firmly.


    "Work?" For the first time in quite some years, Henrietta looked surprised. "I know what you do here, convincing the socially inept to buy overpriced tech."


    "Bit insulting, but fair enough."


    "What part of that requires you to do something that is worth hiding?"


    "I do apologize Detective Henrietta, but that is a company secret." She stared at me for a few seconds, then pulled out her wallet. She retrieved a card, scribbling on it with a pen she had apparently kept from the lobby.


    "Nathaniel, I will never trust you."


    "Oh, thanks."


    "However, I don''t trust anybody. If you are in trouble, if you are close to returning to old habits..." she looked away as my eyes sharpened. However, it only lasted a moment. She held out the card.


    "Henrietta, I appreciate it." I took the card and stuffed it in my breast pocket.


    "I''ll be around, so don''t be too comfortable."


    This was how it always was with Henrietta. She was one of the most difficult people to speak to, but she wasn''t evil. She walked away without a wave and was gone in a flash. I sighed, knowing that at least she didn''t know too much. I straightened my tie, took a sip of my coffee, which was now beginning to match the temperature around me, and returned to my job.


    Around the corner, a man put away his camera. Antler phones had so many features, it was easy to forget they could capture audio from a distance. The man lucked out following Nathaniel today. Most days, it revealed nothing. A few times, he was almost caught by the sudden leering and scanning of paranoid prey. However, that only fueled the man more. If Nathaniel had nothing to be nervous about, he wouldn¡¯t be checking to see if he was being stalked.


    Such was the logic that went through his brain.


    He was aware that anyone who met with Anders Askeland would be shaken, but not just anyone met with a mysterious figure who was also a detective so soon afterward. Such a discovery was enough to justify any odd logic he had concocted. Now the only step was digging deeper. Nathaniel walked away from the meeting and back to Antler. No need to follow him. There was someone far more important to tail.


    The man waited until Nathaniel had rounded the block before he set out. He didn¡¯t want to be seen. The detective had only gone a street over before the man saw her. She was waiting for a cab. Knowing this city, she would find one too soon. He ran.


    ¡°Detective Henrietta!¡± The man yelled. She turned her head.


    ¡°You-¡±


    ¡°Yea, yea. Good to see you again,¡± he interrupted. Her jaw clenched.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°I overheard your conversation. Where exactly do you usually do your detective work?¡±


    ¡°Seems like you didn¡¯t hear my question.¡± A car pulled up, and Henrietta opened the door.


    ¡°Wait!¡± The man yelped. He thought that her demeanor was perhaps her relationship with Nathaniel. Instead, it seemed like her default mode. ¡°I want to make a deal. It¡¯s about your criminal.¡±


    Henrietta took her hand off the car. She stepped back, looking the man in the eye. Then, she sighed. It went on so long that the man was unsure if she was going to pass out from deflation.


    ¡°Who are you talking about?¡± She questioned, straight-faced. He hoped she would come out and confirm his suspicions, but perhaps there was more to it. For some reason, she was protecting Nathaniel.


    ¡°Fine, you don¡¯t have to tell me that. What I¡¯ll tell you is what you want to know: what Nathaniel Hensley has been up to. Who he¡¯s met with, what he¡¯s working on, and where he¡¯s going to be,¡± the man explained. Henrietta stared at him, still as could be. He waited for her to say something, feeling a pressure building. He couldn¡¯t tell if she was frustrated or mulling something over. ¡°What I want in return,¡± he added preemptively, ¡°is to know his background. I want to know why a detective is coming all this way to ask him such a simple question.¡±


    ¡°Did you know that not only is stalking illegal, but it¡¯s also creepy? It doesn¡¯t make you a hero, and it definitely doesn¡¯t make you cool.¡± The man said nothing. ¡°It¡¯s odd how many people forget that, especially when talking to a detective. It really makes me question¡ªwell, everything. So just to get this straight, you stopped me to ask for information on a man you are already stalking? Are you in love with him?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not arresting me, so I imagine you¡¯re considering it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re misinformed,¡± the detective replied. ¡°Quite misinformed. I¡¯m not a walking biography. If you want to tell me your information, go ahead. Don¡¯t expect anything in return.¡±


    The man glared at Henrietta. She didn¡¯t change expression. The two of them were speaking past each other, both stubborn in their bargaining. It was true that she had leverage¡ªthat much was announced when he ran up begging for a deal. However, it was clear that she was not against Nathaniel, and perhaps even on his side. There was no guarantee how she would use the information he had. He didn¡¯t know her motivations, except for one. He took a breath.


    ¡°I know who he was calling.¡±


    I walked back into the lobby, now empty. It was strange, but I didn¡¯t have the energy to consider where everyone went. I threw away my unfinished coffee. I didn¡¯t need extra help waking up. If anything, I needed to bring my adrenaline down, though there was next to no chance my coworkers would notice anything wrong. There were only a few people I knew that could read me, and most worked at this company. The other had given me a card, which I forgot to even read. I pulled out the flimsy piece of paper. I expected her to have a proper business card, but the more I thought about it, this was a better fit. She wasn¡¯t a proper business kind of person.


    I studied her messy, all-caps handwriting. I resisted the urge to curse, despite nobody being around me.


    ¡®You¡¯re being followed.¡¯


    Henrietta always had the worst news.

 Chapter 5: The Conference

    Chapter 5: The Conference


    It had been three years since Anders Askeland last headed a press conference. At that time, the world was taken aback by his simultaneous debut of the Pseudo Gill, which allowed humans to breathe underwater for an indefinite amount of time, and the Smart Weapon, a weapon that was trained to identify any user that was a threat to the shared goal of the owners of the weapons. The Gill had a straightforward result, though required near-magical engineering. It required both a maximum absorption of oxygen from passing water and a chemical agent to gain more oxygen than would be normally available. The Weapon was easier to explain scientifically, but the biggest challenge was having those who might purchase it understand the benefits. The Weapon was not only limited to targeting other groups or countries, but the one who had it in their possession as well. The product came with a malleable set of moral rules, such that it would distinguish good from evil actions. His logic was that a weapon so well-informed and unbiased would keep everyone in line. What was most important, and what often went by without discussion, was that everyone who could buy the Weapon needed to buy it. It was the most advanced tool of destruction ever made, and being left out of this select group would be too dangerous. Both of these inventions changed the world, and while Anders maintained they were both for the good, most of humanity was hesitant to support the latter.


    Therefore, it came as a surprise when the CEO of Antler informed the press that it would be him, not a trained substitute, who would unveil the newest work of genius. Some felt excitement, some felt dread. All eyes and ears wanted to hear what he was going to speak about. No journalist had much time to prepare, as Anders had only given them one day to gather in Echo City. Ordinarily, this meeting would take place in Antler Headquarters, on their dedicated floor for such events, but today was different. A crowd gathered outside City Hall, the chosen destination.


    I walked into the venue ten minutes early. The fervor of the citizens outside was nearly matched by those inside, even those whose jobs were to report calmly and objectively. I found my seat in the second row, only behind world leaders and billionaires, of which there was predictable overlap. The noise was deafening, such that I saw some who wisely wore headphones. It didn¡¯t bother me much. I was too busy thinking to listen.


    Much to my shock, I saw Will scampering across the stage, lifting the microphone to the appropriate height for the speaker to come. After he brought his arms down, he spotted me. I waved and he smiled. I didn¡¯t know he was so close to the boss, but it was true he was an excellent receptionist. Will ran back off, and the crowd continued to develop their theories.


    It was a curious thing, the public perception of Anders Askeland. How is one to gauge what a populace thinks of a man who makes their cars, their houses, their lives? He had fans, as did anyone who appeared on a television screen. He had his critics too, but their criticisms were strange. They could not comment negatively on the quality of his products, nor on his difficult-to-reach character, but they still commented. When a critic runs out of tangible evidence and stories to cover, they become a philosopher. Those who disliked Anders did so because of instinctual fear, but they could only explain it by saying his very presence was a calamity waiting to happen. This, of course, was less persuasive than desired, so it was safe to say that the CEO of Antler was beloved.


    ¡°One minute remaining,¡± rumbled a voice through the speakers. Perhaps expecting the cacophony happening as the audience waited, the volume and depth of voice was loud enough to cut through the noise. Everyone fell silent, though the stage was still empty. They readied their cameras, made by Antler, and readied their hands to type as quickly as could be. I waited.


    Then, he entered. His pinstripe suit was an off-white, an odd combination that surprisingly matched his demeanor. Anders was beaming. Well, as much as he could beam. For him, that meant his eyebrows were unfurrowed and his posture relaxed. I was the only one in the room who knew what he was about to say, but considering my current state of mind, it was wise of him not to bring me up where the cameras could see me.


    He finished his long stride to the microphone and paused. Everyone was already quiet, but he was doing this to remind them that he controlled this event. He studied the room, unfazed by the sure-to-be millions of viewers. To him, such a number was fair. Finally, after fifteen seconds of silence, he spoke.


    ¡°All of you are here to learn of what I have made.¡± He looked down at the front row, and it seemed as though his eyes shifted to me for a fraction of a second. ¡°I won¡¯t keep you in the dark for much longer. I¡¯m not a fan of a prolonged preamble. First, let me thank you for making your individual treks here, whether you are from Echo City or are not so fortunate. The reason for the sudden nature of this conference is a personal choice. I was told by some that I should wait to share this information. However, I thought it best that there be transparency.¡±


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    At those words, my mind shifted to Amahle. She wasn¡¯t in the first row, nor was she standing near Anders. She was the COO of the company, so I knew she had to be in the room. I realized there was a pause in the speech, and I turned my eyes to see Anders Askeland staring right at me. Fear spread through me in an instant. Just as quickly, he returned to his explanation.


    ¡°What I will show you is not only the most impressive invention yet created, but one that stretches the mind to a new height. I¡¯ll ask a question, but do not feel the need to say anything. What is the most important problem to solve?¡±


    A new sort of silence fell over the room. I heard mumbling from those attempting to come up with an unassailable truth. To many, such a question had to have an answer. For even more, it was a tempting proposition to match Anders Askeland in such a game. In all that time, he stood there, unmoving. I imagined that for him, such a sight was analogous to dropping fish feed into an aquarium.


    ¡°If you¡¯ve come up with an answer, hear mine. If you weren¡¯t able to come up with one, realize that this question is more important than any you have ever heard.¡± He drew in a breath. ¡°You might have said that what is crucial is helping those who suffer, or perhaps that we should distinguish happiness from suffering. To make it broader, you may have said that we must answer what an ideal life looks like. After we do such a thing, we can work to make it come true.¡± Some people nodded their heads. ¡°The issue with philosophers is that they get so stuck in their problems that they fail to answer anything, while the rest of humanity waits and suffers.¡±


    Going against my better judgement, I let my eyes drift around the room, searching for Amahle. This time, Anders did not stop.


    ¡°I will save us all the trouble and say what is obvious: damage. The real problem, which causes all pain and suffering, is damage. You can damage a countries¡¯ infrastructure, a computers¡¯ hardware, or a person¡¯s ego. You cannot have suffering without damage.¡± He let that thought sit. He had no papers in front of him, so I could only assume all of this was spur of the moment.


    ¡°I expect rebuttals, though they won¡¯t be convincing. What I am here to reveal to you all is the first product that recovers from damage. Perma Tech.¡±


    With that, there was finally talking behind me. No matter how imposing a figure Anders was, this news was more mind-boggling than being able to breathe underwater. He seemed content letting the masses discuss. I heard a man near me say it was impossible, while another asked what it even meant. While they spoke, a woman walked onto stage wearing a yellow dress. My eyes did not deceive me. It was Amahle Imada. I wondered how I wasn¡¯t able to notice her before, but it hardly mattered. In her hands she carried a phone.


    ¡°Quiet,¡± commanded Anders. The audience obliged. ¡°This is our COO, as you are all aware. You might notice that the phone she¡¯s holding is not ours. It¡¯s an old, flawed phone. The reason I chose this is because it is quite difficult to break one of our current models.¡± Amahle handed him the phone, which he showed to the audience as one might show a toy to children. Then, he snapped it. As everyone tried to inch closer to the demonstration, they saw the device mend itself back together. This was the third kind of silence I had heard that day. First, it was curiosity, then a challenge to their thinking, and finally awe. Contrary to what many might believe when there is a miracle, the witnesses were silent. It could be that such a disparity between expectation and reality causes the brain to shut down temporarily, or it could be a more boring reason. Either way, it fell upon Anders to continue.


    ¡°You might be asking what this means, or how it was created. All of that will be detailed in the coming future. For now, make do with what I have given you.¡± After he stopped, a multitude of hands shot up. Unlike his last appearance three years prior, Anders pointed at an audience member. The individual stood. They were a few rows behind me, but it was easy to tell they were nervous.


    ¡°Does this new technology have wider applications than repairing phones?¡±


    Anders closed his eyes, as if picturing the different paths he could take.


    ¡°Such an invention is certain to invite these questions. However, I am slightly disappointed. Not by your question, but because I have already answered it. I told all of you that it was damage I am trying to fix. A phone is not the only thing that can be damaged or broken. Whatever grand ideas you may have about this technology, they are real. They will happen. They will be grander than what you are imagining. That¡¯s all.¡±


    Anders gave one last look, lingering on no one in particular, then walked off stage. Amahle followed suit, and just like that, it was over. The reporters and citizens all got busy writing their articles and discussing their thoughts. I was the only one who had already processed this information. I had other worries.


    I got up from my seat and navigated through the crowd. I headed for the area Amahle had walked to with Anders. I showed the security my credentials and they let me through. The two of them were already leaving the building, with Anders sitting down in his private car. He saw me immediately, said something to Amahle, and closed the door. Before he left, I saw him smile.


    ¡°Amahle!¡± I exclaimed. It had been more than a month since my first and brief meeting with her. She turned around, laying eyes on me. A shiver washed over me. ¡°Amahle?¡±


    She did not smile, nor frown. She was more calm than I thought a human could be.


    ¡°Nathaniel, it¡¯s good to see you,¡± she replied. Seeing my annoyed expression, she continued. ¡°I suppose we should talk."

 Chapter 6: What It Takes to Steal

    Chapter 6: What It Takes to Steal


    I had never considered how the smallest change could make someone familiar become a stranger. My previous line of work largely dealt with staring at faces, picking out the one that might be unique enough to catch attention from potential customers. Amahle Imada had the most unique face I had ever seen. This was not the sort of compliment you should ever give someone. Usually I would use the word beautiful or distinguished or anything but unique. Yet those were not the first words that sprang to mind when I saw her. Amahle was metal. Her eyes steel, her mouth rose gold, her hair bismuth with an undercut. I suppose the first time I saw her I was so distracted by what she said I didn¡¯t notice these things, but I was also quite sure if these features were indeed there before, they were magnified now. Either way, she fit more into the fashion world than as the COO of Antler.


    When I finally saw her at the conference, I was seeing all this as if for the first time. She told me that we could speak later that day, and I agreed. While the rest of the world panicked over the implications of Perma Tech, I was worried over a dinner. Hundreds of millions considered the future of humanity, and I was considering what to wear. I went with a bow tie and a blue pocket square. I was excited.


    She had called ahead of time to secure a table at a restaurant downtown. By the time I arrived, it was raining. I got there on time, while she was running late. As I waited, I decided to get a drink and an appetizer. I was curious as to why she chose that particular restaurant. It wasn''t the most expensive or the most cozy or the most anything. I couldn''t imagine anybody considering it their favorite eatery, but there were people there anyhow. One thing I did notice, without the sharpness of mind to cut to the meaning, was that they had no monitors. It had become a norm to me, during my two-month tenure in this city, that every establishment had screens of some sort. It was curious, but I accepted it as a business failing to stay modern.


    An hour after I arrived, I turned my gaze and saw Amahle dressed for the rain, her face finding mine almost as fast as I found hers. Despite our limited interactions, I reacted to her as I would a close friend. She didn''t smile or wave, making her way to the seat with a rushed fervor that couldn''t bode well. I was beginning to wonder if these meetings I had were ever of the good kind. Anders, Henrietta, Amahle¡ªmaybe Will would call me out for a nice non-work-related drink. A man could dream.


    "I just got back from Shanghai," she explained hurriedly. "I was supposed to get back a few days ago, but the plane was delayed due to the weather, so I can''t take the blame. Anyway, we need to talk, as I''m sure you¡¯re aware."


    "Did you get my messages?" I asked her. She waved away the question with her hand as she settled into her seat.


    "Yes, but it wasn''t like I could change my schedule, so you were going to wait for me either way," she said while taking off her jacket. Her logic was sound, but it was one annoying sound.


    "I suppose. Why did you choose this location? Childhood favorite?" I asked.


    "No, but I do like it," she answered. I looked at her. She appeared the same in every regard, though when I looked in her eyes-


    "Why are you staring at me?" she asked.


    "Why, I love you."


    This, of course, made her stare at me more. She did nearly smile. It was tough to make her laugh.


    "Okay, I know this is all confusing, but do you remember what I told you the first day?"


    "Of course, and I''m sure you know that''s the most confusing part."


    "Yes, well, whatever questions you have, drop them. What I said wasn¡¯t a lie, nor was it an office prank.¡± The waiter came by and handed Amahle a glass of water. ¡°I heard you met with the boss."


    "I did. He''s quite the character. May I ask, what were you doing before this job?" I asked. Amahle glanced at me, annoyed at my curiosity. Then, she smirked. I couldn''t tell if it was genuine.


    "Why don''t you guess?"


    "Well, I''ll try," I responded. I had hardly spoken to Amahle, but she was by far one of the most galvanizing individuals I had ever met. We were around the same age, but she wore the years better than most models I had worked with. Her proficiency at presenting, her moral code¡ªthey were all signs of one who was decidedly overqualified for any business. Any company large enough to influence a nation¡¯s economy was hard to contribute to without giving up something once held dear. Amahle held all her cards. She wasn''t one of the ancient businessmen of the modern world, amputated from their moral suicides, left crawling across the remainder of their life toward a death they can only hope is the end.


    "This is your first job, isn''t it?"


    Amahle smiled at me. I felt wonderful.


    "Getting a Ph.D. took a while."


    I looked at her. I forgot to speak.


    "It''s surprising, I know. It''s also not really the reason I met with you here."


    "Right, right. You want me to steal the newest tech to come from Antler," I said in a loud voice. Amahle hardly reacted.


    "That''s exactly right. I''ve heard that you met with Anders. I hope you didn''t pass out from fear. Many do."


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "No, I was able to keep myself conscious. He explained to me some things."


    "He likes doing that. A bit too much, really. I suppose that happens when nobody ever tells you to shut up."


    "You really don''t like him."


    Amahle stared at me. I got the feeling she hated hearing me state the obvious. Perhaps she just hated me.


    "So, what did you get your degree in?"


    ¡°Here I thought you would know already. Mathematics and Economics.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t those the same thing?¡± I replied. There was a long pause as Amahle sipped her water.


    ¡°Okay, so I can imagine what¡¯s on your mind, vis a vis the proposed theft. Your thoughts must be magnified now that it''s been revealed to the world.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡±


    ¡°Well, Nathaniel, I¡¯ll have to ask you to drop it.¡±


    ¡°Well, Amahle, I¡¯ll have to ask you to explain yourself.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember that paper I referenced when we first met? Your stare tells me no. Pretty much, if the consumer doesn¡¯t have requisite knowledge of the product, the entire system is liable to collapse. You are still looking at me blankly. Anders just gave a speech, introducing the product. Therefore, the consumer knows enough.¡±


    ¡°Amahle, you and I both know that¡¯s not true.¡±


    The waiter came by again to pour water into Amahle¡¯s glass. The entire time, I was entranced in a staring contest with one of my bosses. It was quite awkward. The waiter finished pouring and left. Amahle continued her silence for some time, her face neutral. I still preferred this to Anders.


    ¡°Do you know who hired you, Nathaniel? Not who approved it, but who actually suggested you?


    ¡°You?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right. At the time, I thought you were necessary. I¡¯m sorry to say that¡¯s not true anymore.¡±


    Anger flooded inside me. Amahle¡¯s eyes widened. The anger suddenly stopped, replaced with clarity.


    ¡°When you were gone, what happened? Don¡¯t try and lie to me, I know that¡¯s against your code,¡± I said. Surprisingly, Amahle didn¡¯t smile or get annoyed or any of the emotions she had shown up until this point. It was a foreign expression, something I imagined she rarely ever showed.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you just believe me? I¡¯m telling you that you don¡¯t need to do it anymore.¡±


    ¡°I believe everything you¡¯ve said, except when you were talking about the conference. I don¡¯t take you as someone who lies unless it¡¯s important. If you want to fire me, I can¡¯t stop you. In fact, you could have done that without meeting me in this diner. I imagine you have some sort of plan, and you¡¯re just hesitant to tell me what it is. Well, I¡¯ll let you work through whether or not to tell me. I¡¯m in no rush.¡±


    She sighed. A lot of people in my life sighed. It must have been a coincidence.


    ¡°Yes, I did have a plan. The problem is this, Nathaniel: whether it succeeds or fails, I lose.¡± She laughed. ¡°I like to think of myself as someone motivated by the right reasons. Not altruistic, but as close as I was ever going to get. That was a lie.¡±


    ¡°Amahle, if you hired me, you probably know all about me. Not many people do, so it¡¯s refreshing. I¡¯m not the best person at overcoming self-preservation. Not when I was a kid keeping my candy hidden in case my friends asked for some, and not today, when I told the waiter to charge you with my meal. What I will say is that it¡¯s a trait I¡¯ve always envied. You¡¯re teetering on the edge, where I would be firmly placed in selfish territory. That is an accomplishment by itself.¡±


    ¡°Did you really hide candy just so you wouldn¡¯t have to give it to your friends?¡±


    ¡°Yea.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡±


    ¡°Did you hear anything else I said?¡±


    Completely ignoring my question, she pulled out a folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket. Such a minor behavior, she was able to do with a swiftness and grace that stunned me. The fact that such a small detail had that effect on me was, by itself, stunning. She unfolded the paper and set it on the table.


    "This is the room you will be going to. In it is what you are stealing. I''d prefer you memorize it, but if you need it, take the paper with you," Amahle said hurriedly.


    I didn''t look at the paper.


    "What changed your mind? Was it me?¡± I smiled.


    Amahle inhaled.


    "You know, when I first met Anders, he had brought me in for a job interview. I didn''t understand it, of course, because I never had a job before. So when I walked in to meet with him, I saw people waiting outside who fit the bill. And for some reason, I was there. When we spoke, he told me many things. One was why he called me in. He said ''Evil companies may profit, but they fail nonetheless. The only business impervious to failure is that which has simplified itself into a necessity, one will not disappear and cannot be replaced. Evil is but a tool imposed by those too hasty to seek immortality.'' He said that to me pretty much right away," she added with a smile. "I didn''t know what he meant. I still don''t. He sounds like a madman in some ways. Perhaps he is one. He hired me so his company wouldn''t fall into the evil abyss he feared. But, Nathaniel, I am now quite sure I was unable to stop it."


    ¡°You¡¯re quite dramatic.¡±


    ¡°So are you.¡±


    I sat back, contemplating what she said. It certainly filled in some of the gaps, though I didn¡¯t know what she was so afraid of. What did she stand to lose, other than her job?


    ¡°In this room,¡± I said while tapping the paper, ¡°That¡¯s where the prototype is? The one from the conference?¡± She nodded. ¡°See, Amahle, I think Anders has pulled one over on us. It¡¯s not just the phone. In his office, he turned the windows into Perma Tech. I don¡¯t know how much he¡¯s changed. Is there any way to steal the main server and shut it down at once?¡±


    Amahle looked as though she had just bit into a lime.


    ¡°Nathaniel, that¡¯s not how this works. That¡¯s honestly not how anything works. You want to steal the server? It¡¯s good you know how to sell because anything with computers is not your forte.¡±


    ¡°Point taken, but I was just brainstorming.¡±


    ¡°Nathaniel, just go to that room. Steal what¡¯s in there, and make a run for it.¡±


    I finally felt something click in my mind. It was not a Sherlockian solve, but rather the right question.


    ¡°The phone isn¡¯t the real prototype, is it?¡± I asked. Amahle did not correct me. ¡°What am I going to steal?¡±


    The rain became deafening as she explained. We parted ways shortly after, Amahle going to her car and me signaling a taxi. As I opened the door to my apartment, I felt the initial pangs of hunger. It was quite unfortunate. I was really excited about that dinner.

 Chapter 7: The Unexpected Encounter

    Chapter 7: The Unexpected Encounter


    It¡¯s a fair question to ask: why did I consider Amahle¡¯s request so readily? Why did I not dismiss it as a joke as most would? It¡¯s even sillier when I realize I only learned why I had to agree with her mission so late. Perhaps she should have told me earlier.


    I was now on edge, knowing the full extent of my mission and knowing that it was only just beginning. I tried to go about my daily routine as normally as I could, but it was difficult. How is one supposed to behave normally when they know what¡¯s to come? I suppose I felt like one of those doomsday prophets, who steel themselves for the end while humanity lives in ignorance. I walked around Echo City, hearing snippets of conversations about sports, drama, and more than once, Antler Industries. It was impossible to escape the topic even for a moment.


    The development team had asked me what I thought the day after the conference. and I had to explain in scripted words that we would be working on integrating the tech into our phone and gaming devices, while the marketing team and I would follow up on some potential ads. None of it was a lie, but I had grown to like the people I worked with, and it was a natural inclination to tell those whom you were fond of the truth.


    Today I was up early, walking around a new street in Echo, attempting to relax. It should be common knowledge that putting effort into something synonymous with little effort is drawing a perfect circle slowly. If I really wanted to relax, I would be lying in bed. Instead, I was here, three streets over from 49th Street, pacing up and down the block. I was thinking, planning. Amahle had taken a plane out of the country a few hours prior, the destination a mystery to me. I had to sever my ties to her, even more so than before. From an outside perspective, I was a new employee who quite annoyingly messaged my boss despite her rare responses. When phrased that way, I wasn¡¯t nearly as charming.


    It would be a few days until the theft, and I could do nothing to speed that up. There was a caterpillar on the edge of the sidewalk, perilously close to wandering into a land of danger in the form of boots and high heels. It paused, turning its body left and right like a cautious pedestrian. It turned and turned, stuck in indecision or some other reason I could not comprehend. Then, it went back to the root of the Gingko tree it came from. I suppose it was a constant throughout the animal kingdom to save one¡¯s own skin, or whatever a caterpillar had, perhaps some sort of fuzzy and disposable coat.


    By the time I was to go back to work, I had neither caffeine nor focus in my system. It wasn¡¯t until I was walking into my office on the third floor that I finally woke up. There he was, sitting in my room, stern and angry.


    ¡°I know who you are, Nathaniel.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d hope so.¡±


    I never liked it when people said that to me. I did not appreciate their tone when they said it, nor the look in their eyes.


    ¡°You are a criminal. A terrible, wicked criminal who is so wicked and terrible that even when caught for his crimes, he faced no punishment, no justice. You condemned others to face the fate that was destined for you and were rewarded for it. You are a threat. Despite your demeanor, you might be the most evil man I have met, if not in motivation then in accidental consequence. I have no doubt that whatever you do, it will be a vile and catastrophic action.¡±


    ¡°And you are not who I thought you were. I suppose we have that in common.¡±


    There was a pause as we locked eyes. He turned away. I spoke first.


    ¡°Why did you come here to tell me this, Will? I thought we were friends.¡±


    The happy-go-lucky receptionist swiveled his eyes back to me, now filled with hatred.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t friends. I¡¯m surprised a criminal like yourself is so vulnerable to deception.¡±


    ¡°Can you stop calling me a criminal? It¡¯s not quite necessary.¡±


    ¡°It is necessary. You are still a criminal, so it is the most necessary of all descriptors.¡±


    I took a seat at my desk, my head still clearing. It was not a lie when I say that despite my surprise, I was calm. I suppose even when a friend declares themselves anything but, I still see the face of a friend. That, by itself, is calming.


    ¡°Will, I assume you were the one following me.¡±


    He laughed a raspy, hollow laugh.


    ¡°Yes, I did. I can excuse you for not noticing that. I¡¯m good.¡±


    ¡°Then I assume you went and spoke to the detective?¡± I questioned. He stopped smiling. A look of trouble fell on his bushy eyebrows. ¡°So that¡¯s it. I see.¡± I sat back, thinking.


    ¡°She-¡±


    ¡°That still leaves the question, my dear friend, why did you come into my office?¡± He raised his hand to interrupt, but I made no pause. ¡°If you were trying to get evidence, it wouldn¡¯t be effective to get it from me. At the very least, you could convince someone else to look into me. Someone a bit more official.¡± Will sat up, clearing his throat.


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    ¡°The reason I¡¯m here is-¡±


    ¡°Then again, you might be trying to get me to say something incriminating while you record it. If you¡¯re the kind of man to stalk me, you would probably also do that.¡± I picked up a pen, twirling it in my hand. ¡°Ah, I see. You aren¡¯t against me, or at least, you don¡¯t hate me as much as you hate someone else. You don¡¯t care if I¡¯m a criminal or if I¡¯m clean. You just want something to hold over me. You probably tried to do this with other hires, probably even Amahle. She, of course, was as non-criminal as you could get.¡± I smiled, thinking of how confused Will must have been learning who Amahle was. ¡°So, you¡¯ve tried to uncover dirty secrets of those in important positions for some reason. I do not envy your job. However, you clearly aren¡¯t trying to take me down. Who are you against, I wonder? Who are you doing this for?¡±


    A furious Will stared at me. It was saddening to see my friend change like this.


    ¡°You talk a lot,¡± he said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been on the other side of talkative people recently. Thanks for letting me ramble, Will.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he grumbled. ¡°I hate someone else more. I do hate you, though.¡± I bobbled my head in disagreement. ¡°I won¡¯t tell you who. Anyway-¡±


    ¡°Anders?¡± I asked. Will stopped, confused.


    ¡°How did you know that?¡±


    ¡°Will, my friend, did Henrietta get angry at you? She doesn¡¯t like people who are bad at negotiating. Trust me,¡± I advised. Will bit his lip. ¡°You laid out too many of your cards. You don¡¯t hate me-¡±


    ¡°I do hate you.¡±


    ¡°Sure. You got this ¡®information¡¯ on me, and yet you don¡¯t try to get me in trouble. You want to use me to take someone down. Who is the toughest to take down? Well, the man in charge of it all.¡±


    ¡°Okay, fine. I want to take down Anders.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s the friendly banter I was missing!¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t friends.¡±


    ¡°We agree, we disagree. We laugh, we frown. To me, that¡¯s a friendship, even if you don¡¯t see it yet.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you know what a friend is,¡± Will retorted.


    ¡°Well, whatever. What do you want me to do?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You know, what exactly did you come here for? I know you hate Anders, but what¡¯s your plan?¡±


    ¡°There are two things I want to discuss. One, I know you¡¯re planning something. I¡¯ve followed you long enough to know that.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you.¡±


    Will sat forward in the chair.


    ¡°Tell me what you¡¯re planning to do, Nathaniel.¡±


    ¡°Will,¡± I narrowed my eyes, ¡°I cannot tell you.¡± After a brief silence, he backed off. Even he could get scared.


    ¡°You really are a criminal. Fine, don¡¯t tell me. I¡¯ll find out anyway. Second, I have a demand. I want you to help Amahle.¡±


    Now this caught me off guard. Here Will was, pretending to be a harsh investigator, but instead, he was a romantic. I only wondered which of his demeanors was more honest. I was also a bit annoyed, seeing how this was the second demand made of me. Not only that, this was a much more difficult one.


    ¡°Help her? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± he sighed, ¡°I used to like Anders. I did this work for him. I would look into new hires, vetting them to ensure they were going to help the company. No ulterior motives.¡±


    ¡°I can understand that, though having the receptionist do that is a bit strange.¡±


    ¡°Then, Amahle Imada was hired. When she arrived that first day, I was determined to find out her secrets. Since she was made COO immediately, I had to be more thorough than ever. The boss never explained to me why he hired her, but once I met her, I understood. She was human, and she was good. I¡¯ve looked into a lot of people, and usually the more you learn, the less good you find. Take you for example.¡±


    I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Amahle was the same on the surface as she was at her core,¡± he continued. ¡°Honest.¡±


    ¡°She can also be rude,¡± I argued.


    ¡°That too, but it¡¯s the same all the time. She¡¯s brash, but as brash with a close friend as she is with a small child. It¡¯s the same with kindness.¡±


    ¡°So, Will, do you love her?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°I just realized that she was the person that I should be supporting. Anders is, well-¡±


    ¡°I understand what you mean.¡±


    ¡°Usually I would report you. But I think Amahle needs help. She was off the grid for weeks after she met you. I don¡¯t know where she went, but when she came back, she had changed. I think something happened to her. She shouldn¡¯t be working here, under Anders.¡±


    As it turned out, Will and I had similar experiences with Amahle, though he didn¡¯t know as much as I did.


    ¡°Okay, so you want to get her out of this business, and you think I can make that happen.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    I turned my chair around and faced the window. Outside it was beginning to heat up. I heard the birds and saw the people flooding the streets. This city grid, designed by a man¡¯s greed to reflect his authority, was inhabited by animals who knew nothing of him. I could see why one might want to escape such a place. I turned back around.


    ¡°It just so happens, Will, that you can help her if you want.¡±


    His eyes softened, nearly back to their original warmth.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°The plan you believe me to have, which I will neither confirm nor deny, you can help.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just helping you. I am not a criminal.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s debatable. What I mean is, if you help me out with this hypothetical plan, you would be achieving your own goal.¡±


    ¡°Okay, what do I do?¡±


    I nearly laughed at how readily he agreed.


    ¡°All you need to do is be my friend,¡± I stated. His jaw clenched. ¡°And, when the time is right, you are going to make Anders Askeland absolutely furious.¡±


    This was the first genuine laugh Will and I shared.

 Chapter 8: The Beginning of the End

    Chapter 8: The Beginning of the End


    On the first day of my first spring in Echo City, I got an espresso. It was warm but only because of the sunlight. I supposed it would only get hotter from here on out. I styled my hair as best I could, though it was not the kind to take to wax. I naturally looked professional, but today, I had to look important. There was a difference. Though public transport was more common in this blessed city, I took my car. It was a new purchase, but I made enough to afford two of them. Within minutes, I arrived at my location.


    It was here, at this warehouse near the edge of the city grid, that I was to rob. This is what Amahle asked of me. I would have expected Anders to not advertise the warehouse as his, considering how expensive and worth stealing the items within were. He was, however, not a man to hide. Everyone who passed by saw the ostentatious signs. Anders was confident. I wondered how he would react to being robbed. All I knew is that I did not want to be the one to inform him.


    I was sharp that day. I scanned my I.D. in the machine out front. The guards knew me, but it was still protocol. I had never met them, but I was high up enough within the hierarchy that they had learned my face and name.


    ¡°Takes a while,¡± I commented as I waited for the scan to approve.


    ¡°New model also checks the users¡¯ health status. You know, heart rate, blood pressure. No one else can use your card, obviously, but this protects against someone holding you at gunpoint,¡± one guard explained.


    ¡°Smart.¡± The guard now looked at the machine, interested in the results. Then, it dinged.


    ¡°You¡¯re all good to go, Mr. Hensley.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    I continued in through the gates and up to the door. It opened automatically, whether because of my card or some higher factor, I do not know. I entered.


    My role was clear: I was to enter the warehouse on orders from the development team. Amahle had organized it so I received a legitimate email from my unsuspecting coworkers regarding a pickup to be made for a phone and its corresponding potential ads. It was an important task, but it wasn¡¯t so important that a special delivery had to be made. After all, it was just a phone. I was to show it to marketing and development, mainly for feedback and to brainstorm ideas for Perma Tech. This meant that I could do a favor to my coworkers without arousing suspicion. It gave me entry.


    Once inside, it was a matter of navigation. Amahle had given me the layout, and despite a lack of images, I felt familiar with the first step through the door. The structure¡¯s geometrical design reminded me of an Escher painting. There were three visible floors, although some dangerous items were held belowground. More crucial to the mission, Amahle had shown me the room where the prototype lay, which was adjacent to my official destination. What might be considered luck was in fact the expert organization of the COO.


    Surprisingly, I was not asked to put my items through a metal detector. The people inside looked at me as if I was supposed to be there. Strictly speaking, this was true. It still felt strange.


    ¡°You¡¯re here for the phone, yes?¡± Asked an approaching figure. She was not dressed as a guard, but rather as I might dress. Her suit was twill, and I worried for a moment that the beauty of the suit would go wasted in a warehouse such as this.


    ¡°I am,¡± I replied with a smile. Just as humans are one to do, her face relaxed.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s going to be in room 3a28. The system is strange, but I can show you the way if you want.¡±


    Normally, I would accept such an offer immediately. She was correct in her assessment, but I couldn¡¯t have her join me.


    ¡°I appreciate it, but I don¡¯t want to keep you. The room is down this hallway, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve been here before?¡±


    ¡°No, someone told me where to go so I wouldn¡¯t get lost,¡± I laughed. She laughed too.


    ¡°That makes sense. I probably shouldn¡¯t tell you this, but one time the boss came here, and I think he got lost too. He never admitted it, of course.¡± She tilted her head down as if someone might overhear her.


    ¡°Of course.¡± Pause. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been a pleasure meeting you.¡±


    ¡°You too, Mr. Hensley,¡± she responded. I turned, knowing her eyes were still on me. Fortunately, it was not a suspicious gaze. All I had to do now was follow the plan. A ring sounded out through the empty hallways. My eyes widened. I quickly retrieved my phone.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Nathaniel, Nathan, Nate. What are you doing?¡±


    I kept my composure. Most likely, I could be heard.


    ¡°I¡¯m just picking up a delivery. Could you call back later?¡±


    ¡°So today, I decided to check up on you. I¡¯m not like that creep. I just went to where you should have been, and they told me you were doing everyone a favor,¡± she lingered on that word, not so subtly telling me that such an act was suspicious by itself. ¡°They told me that Mr. Nathaniel Hensley was going to drive across town, pick something up, all because he was such a kind and empathetic leader. That¡¯s what they said. By the way, the people working there reveal way too much. They definitely didn¡¯t know I was a detective, and I got more info than I do in an interrogation.¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess I just wanted to raise morale.¡± I kept walking, noticing that this hallway kept going and going. From the outside, I wouldn¡¯t have guessed that the floor would be this long.


    ¡°After they told me all that and a bag of chips, I went across town. Given what they said, the only logical place was the warehouse. Why does it have a giant neon sign out front? It isn¡¯t a damn diner.¡±


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    I almost asked if she was outside, but that would be unwise.


    ¡°I saw you, wearing your fancy clothes, talking your way into the place. Nathaniel, you might think you¡¯re clever, that you have complete control of your appearance to everyone else, but you didn¡¯t look normal.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you should get a new prescription,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I would have left if you were nervous or sad or anything like that. I¡¯m not your therapist. Nathaniel, what worried me is that you were excited. You were bright. I haven¡¯t seen that face on you for a long time. I was hoping I would never see it again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to call you back later.¡±


    ¡°Nathaniel, I am going to wait out front until I see you leave with what you are supposed to have. Know that.¡±


    ¡°You too, bye.¡±


    This was not accounted for. Not by Amahle, who probably had never spoken to Henrietta, nor by me. I had no idea what to do, but I still had the most pressing problem: getting the tech out of the building. I kept my face neutral. The cameras in the building were unique, according to Amahle. In some sensitive areas, namely those that contained dangerous or vital inventions, the footage was only viewable to certain employees. Perma Tech was one of those areas. Either way, I had a way around it.


    I twisted the door handle to the room, laying eyes on a neat display of expensive items. I smiled. I could not take everything, but I imagined a universe where I could. Sitting in the middle of the room was a rectangular metal container, slightly shorter than me. It was lightweight and came with a built-in dolly handle to roll it out easily. Looking at it now, I understood why such a task would normally be relegated to a truck or by a team of people. I checked my watch, seeing the minute hand approaching ten in the morning. I opened the door as smoothly as I could and rolled the container out.


    I looked both ways down the hallway, and upon seeing no figure approaching, bumped the container. Amahle had made sure that the container would be vulnerable to such a weak attack. Out fell a few sketches, a phone, and one finished design. This was my key to cutting off the cameras. A flaw in Antlers¡¯ system was that of its smart recording. Upon seeing what it deems an accidental reveal of technology, it locks down the footage. Only those incredibly high up the ladder could view it. Right now, I was free.


    I sprinted to the next door down with the empty container in tow, labeled 3a29. This was the room with the prototype. I opened the door, a surprise to anyone who didn¡¯t know the inner workings of Antler. If there was a step Anders could skip and come off more impressive in the process, he would take it. No doors were locked once inside. It was assumed anyone who had made it this far wouldn¡¯t do anything illegal.


    Though it was just one door down and with roughly identical dimensions, this room was beyond comparison. Every container was made of expensive materials, alloys that must have had some special property. I wondered how the items within could be worth more, but I knew they must have been. Sitting in the same spot as the other room was a matching metal container I rolled behind me. This was where the switch was to happen.


    ***


    Olive swiftly traversed the corridors. It wasn¡¯t often anything curious happened in the Antler warehouse. Today, there were myriad. A new and important hire visited, she had just heard a clatter of noises, and to top it all off, she was going to see Anders Askeland in only a few hours.


    There was no need for her to stay near the front door. All visits stayed close to schedule, and the next visitor would arrive in a half hour. She saw in the distance a figure crouched down, his hands deftly fixing something.


    ¡°Mr. Hensley, is everything okay?¡± Olive asked from a way out. The figure stood up, locking eyes with her. She froze. He smiled. She moved.


    ¡°Everything¡¯s okay. The container was a bit too packed, so when I bumped against the door, well,¡± he laughed.


    ¡°Oh, I understand. Do you need any help?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he interjected. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I got it back in, all good to go. Thank you for the offer.¡±


    Olive looked at him. His styled hair, now a bit messy, accentuated his kind features. She then looked past him.


    ¡°Mr. Hensley, the door is open.¡±


    He swiveled his head before laughing.


    ¡°Ah, right. That door.¡± He quickly shut 3a28, before putting his hands back on the container. ¡°I forgot to ask you your name, but you already know mine.¡±


    ¡°Olive.¡±


    ¡°Well, thank you for all your help Olive. Maybe if I have to pick something up again I¡¯ll see you.¡± He smiled before starting to move down the hallway. Before he passed her, she spoke.


    ¡°Have a great day, Mr. Hensley.¡±


    ¡°Everything is going perfect so far,¡± he responded.


    Outside, Detective Henrietta was growing anxious. This was the old Nathaniel she was witnessing, the one who had an unnerving effect on anyone who knew what he was doing. Still, she didn¡¯t want to inform everyone of his past. It was the deal they had worked out long ago. She just had to make sure he wasn¡¯t being nefarious or diabolical. A more fitting word for someone like him was impulsive. He thought on his feet. It was unfortunate.


    There he was, stepping out into the sunlight with a curious container rolling behind him.


    ¡°Why on earth are they letting one guy transport something?¡± Henrietta mumbled to herself. She opened her car door and walked over. She watched him converse and laugh with the guards before they opened the gate for him. He met her eyes, keeping that smile. Henrietta absolutely hated it.


    ¡°Good to see you, Detective.¡±


    ¡°Show me.¡±


    ¡°You just told me the employees share too much, and now you want me to show you what¡¯s inside this crucial container belonging to a powerful company worth billions?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s move to my car.¡±


    They walked, Henrietta never taking her eyes off the container. It wouldn¡¯t surprise her if Nathaniel had learned some sleight of hand. The two of them reached his car, and she placed herself in front of the door.


    ¡°Open it.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± he responded, unlocking the container with a sigh. ¡°Here you go.¡± The detective scanned the contents. Inside was a phone, sketches, and a large framed drawing. She reached inside. ¡°Hey-¡±


    ¡°Shut it,¡± she interrupted while studying the phone. It was the new model that Nathaniel was working on. Such information was practically public. Nothing looked off. The sketches and the finished ad were the same.


    ¡°Alright, can I go now?¡± he asked. Henrietta took a long look at him. His expression was neutral, but she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he was happy. If there was one thing she knew, it was that he was never happy to see her.


    ¡°Fine, but really? A phone and some drawings? I¡¯m not an idiot. Those aren¡¯t even ¡®crucial items¡¯. They¡¯re barely important. You came here for another reason.¡±


    ¡°Maybe there¡¯s someone inside I wanted to see.¡± The two of them held eye contact for a few seconds. From a distance, it might have been mistaken as romantic. Henrietta scoffed, finally letting Nathaniel load the delivery into his car. She said nothing as he revved up the car, waved, and drove off. Whatever he was doing, she didn¡¯t like it. He had changed.


    ***


    I made my way back to work, and the rest of the day went smoothly. I met with the teams and we ironed out the details. On the surface, it was a normal day. I went back to my apartment a tad tired. When I walked into my living room, I saw it. The most expensive piece of technology known to humanity. The singular invention that could demolish the global economy. The existence that threatened existence. I saw the prototype, and she frowned at me.


    ¡°Did you get it or not?¡±


    I smiled. I quite liked Amahle Imada.

 Chapter 9: Amahles Story

    Chapter 9: Amahle¡¯s Story


    When I was young, I was told there was always a choice. Whether it be between two goods or two evils, in life there existed options. It was a kind, useful reminder stemming from thousands of years of cultural compromise.


    It is not true.


    On occasion, there is a situation that has only one answer. Stupidity and selfishness create alternate paths.


    It was my first day after graduating that I received a job offer from Antler Industries. I had heard of them, of course. They had grown exponentially year after year, with the only plateau being people¡¯s wallets. They wanted to expand those as well. I had written my dissertation on Antler. It was scathing. My advisor warned me that even though it was academic, such a paper might incur the wrath of Antler fans or the company itself. He was a disappointing advisor.


    I got the call directly from Anders¡¯ assistant. They told me that he had read my paper, despite it criticizing his business. In that moment, I felt curiosity, not fear or nervousness. I simply wanted to hear what someone had to say, someone who wasn¡¯t vying for affection or cowering from a monolithic organization. The assistant asked if I wanted a job, and I asked what the position would be. They said the Chief Operating Officer, and I asked in turn if this offer was serious. I did not appreciate pranks. They said yes, and so did I. I flew out to Echo City as soon as I packed my essentials.


    When I initially worked at Antler, I did not meet Anders Askeland. I learned about the company, how wonderfully it was run, and the scope of their enterprise. I was aware of how it functioned on paper, but it was strange to see it in person.


    For a week while I got acclimated, I waited to meet with the CEO. The fact he hired me and didn¡¯t know me was as much a surprise to me as anything else. Finally, the day arrived to speak to him. He requested I meet him in the lobby. I obliged and arrived early. The only one there was the receptionist, Will. He was a curious one¡ªhe stared at me too much. I told him so a few days prior, and to his credit, he toned down his gaze.


    Right on time, Anders entered the lobby. He covered the ground in even steps, never hesitating. Expecting there to be reporters following, he did not allow anyone to enter unless they were staff. The lobby was not empty. People passed by, fully capable of listening in if they chose to. I wondered why Anders decided on this location. He sat down facing me, a table separating our respective chairs. He set his drink down.


    ¡°Amahle Imada,¡± Anders stated.


    ¡°Anders Askeland,¡± I equalled. He looked at me, his eyes revealing nothing.


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about your paper.¡± Anders pulled out a packet. He had it properly bound like a textbook. It was my first time seeing my writing in this form.


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to.¡±


    ¡°Antler Industries and Existential Risk: Threats of a Hyper-Advanced Company.¡± Anders looked up at me. ¡°Quite the title.¡±


    ¡°Every word was necessary.¡±


    ¡°I heard about this through someone who works for me. They thought I would be angry. I asked them if the paper had merit. They said it didn¡¯t. I asked them what it¡¯s flaws were. They couldn¡¯t think of any.¡±


    ¡°I agree with that last assessment,¡± I replied. He laughed in a volume that engulfed the room. It was fortunate the building was stable.


    ¡°I don¡¯t often read papers by students, but only because my time is valuable. I read yours.¡± He gave me a second, as if expecting a bow. I did not move.


    ¡°As you should.¡±


    ¡°Hm. This effect you describe, the ¡®self-destruction¡¯, is it set in stone?¡±


    I leaned back. I did not expect this. Anders was, even from my distant view, a man sure of himself. It was even an assumption in my paper that the company in question would not change, and would collapse. Here he was, presenting himself as a man willing to evolve.


    ¡°For your company, it is not. Not yet.¡±


    ¡°You list some solutions in your paper, but none of them are feasible,¡± said Anders.


    ¡°Why are they not feasible?¡±


    Anders closed his eyes. As he breathed in, the passersby quieted down. He did not like distractions.


    ¡°Solution A: In order to avoid the growing asymmetry, the company must lower the quality of their products. They must match their competition.¡± Anders put the papers down. ¡°I cannot release anything less than perfect, Amahle Imada.¡±


    ¡°That is not the only option,¡± I said calmly. Anders slowly picked the paper back up.


    ¡°Solution B: The company in question must educate¡­¡± Anders paused briefly, ¡°The public, and by extension, the competition, as to how their products function. Their ingenuity must not remain a complete mystery. I cannot determine which option I like less, but I do not enjoy the thought of giving away our company¡¯s knowledge to everyone. I¡¯m sure you see why.¡±


    ¡°I do, Anders.¡±


    ¡°These are the only two options?¡±


    ¡°They are.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Anders did not yell, nor did he make any movement intended to intimidate. It was solely by his subtle decisions, done without thought, that he became a figure fearsome and admirable. He sat there, in the lobby of his headquarters, for five minutes. He kept his eyes closed and made no noise. Those who entered and exited the building were just as silent. I waited.


    ¡°It has to be the product,¡± rumbled Anders. I raised an eyebrow. I knew my paper better than anyone, which meant I was, more than anyone, curious what I could have missed.


    ¡°The product¡ªthe knowledge on how the product is made and functions¡ªis the most important component.¡±


    ¡°If the product defines the market, if it transforms the market to such a degree that this effect ceases to exist, that would do,¡± he stated. I watched him, as if he might make his words clear. He wanted me to ask.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how much better your product is than the competition. At some point, either your company will falter or someone will falter for you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not better. It¡¯s perfect.¡±


    ¡°A perfect product?¡± I asked. Such a thing was not a foreign concept to me, though it did not exist in the real world.


    ¡°A perfect product, so much so that one purchase eliminates a need from the consumer permanently, as well as opposing companies. The value of such a product would be higher than anything you have studied.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it would be,¡± I replied.


    ¡°That¡¯s what we will do then,¡± he added.


    ¡°My paper deals with the global market, not just one niche consumer want.¡±


    ¡°I did not say ¡®want¡¯, Amahle,¡± he stated with a cold stare. ¡°This is a ¡®need¡¯. This is not niche, this is necessary. This is not a small market, it is global. We will create the perfect product, and you will help me avoid this problem. How does that sound?¡±


    I considered his question. I had accepted this position because I could not think of a more interesting place to explore what I had studied. However, despite my impulsive decision to accept the COO position, I did consider what I might have to do. This, morphing the world to fit the wants of Anders Askeland, was not on my list. I nodded my head.


    ¡°Fantastic,¡± he said with a clap, ¡°Now we just have to make a prototype.¡±


    I met with Anders only a few times after that talk. Every time, he assumed I agreed with what he said. Every time, I felt more and more unsure. I worried that if Antler became too advanced of a company, they would outgrow the understanding of consumers and lawmakers. Who could control a technology no one understands? Who would put laws in place to stop a market beyond human comprehension? Anders saw no wrong with this because his flaw was believing himself to be good. It wasn¡¯t a matter of good or evil, it was a matter of unintended consequence. No one wants everyone to be unhappy. No one wants everything to go wrong. It is only through different, honest beliefs and circumstances that we end in war and suffering. Anders was not a god, and the rest of humanity were not puppets. If he did not bring his company back down to Earth, there would be someone to misread the text, to impose their beliefs and knowledge in a manner that benefitted no one. I knew this would happen, and yet he did not agree. He did not just believe himself to be good, but perfect. There was no such thing.


    I had to steal what he created.


    Months later, after I met Nathaniel Hensley months later, I felt a deep loneliness. I was not a criminal. I was not prepared for the dread of facing someone oblivious to my motivations, their eyes believing me to be on their side. I had no one to turn to. Nathaniel was the only one I could talk to, and I could not talk to him. I flew off to Shanghai after informing him of his real job. Any more contact would draw attention.


    I did not plan this trip, so I was worried. There were details to iron out, a theft to organize. I was not confident, but I knew what I had to do. I was told that I would be speaking with the Chinese manufacturer for a variety of our products, including the one I intended to take. Still, this task was normal. It was important and so was I. The plane arrived in the rain, but it did not take long to get to the location.


    It was there, as I exited my company car, that my memory cut out.


    I woke up in a hotel room. It was midday and sunny. My skin felt strange, my eyes were constantly adjusting to distance and brightness, and I couldn¡¯t remember how I got there. I immediately searched for my phone, finding it on the bedside desk. I checked the date first. A day had passed. I checked the location and it was Shanghai, at the hotel I was booked for. I checked my arms and legs and I was not injured. I called the man I was supposed to meet yesterday.


    ¡°Hello?¡± His voice rang loudly against my ear.


    ¡°This is Amahle Imada from Antler.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Ms. Imada! I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re calling me while on the plane!¡±


    I was confused. I didn¡¯t get the date wrong, but he was acting as if yesterday didn¡¯t exist.


    ¡°I¡¯m already in Shanghai.¡±


    ¡°Really? Well you can come down whenever you want. My team is ready to discuss numbers.¡±


    ¡°Right, see you then,¡± I replied tiredly. My mind was in a daze. I checked my calendar, and it showed today as the correct day to meet him. A day had passed, and only I had a mild recollection of it. I stood up and went to the bathroom. One step inside and I saw my reflection. It was me, but someone else. All my features were there, but my instincts told me they were the features of another. My phone rang.


    ¡°This is Amahle Imada.¡±


    ¡°I know. This is Mr. Askeland''s assistant. He asked me to relay this information to you.¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t ask you,¡± I corrected. She coughed.


    ¡°Well, he told me to tell you that you¡¯ll be getting the prototype in Shanghai.¡±


    ¡°What? The prototype is ready?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Ms. Imada.¡±


    ¡°Fine. Tell him when you see him that I want to talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± responded the fearful assistant. I hung up and placed the phone down. My day only became more strange. The prototype wasn¡¯t close to being ready as far as I knew. Did Anders keep a secret from me? I thought to myself. The answer was clear. He was a blunt man, but he avoided honesty if it benefitted him.


    I met with the head of our Shanghai manufacturer later and it went poorly. I was scheduled to return to Echo in a few days, but I stayed for weeks. Antler thought it was for company-related discussions, but the truth was that I caused problems on purpose. I had to stay to figure out what happened to me. I had to figure out what Anders meant. After a few weeks, it became clear.


    Anders, a man hungry for a world to change in his vision, had turned me into the prototype for human-integrated Perma Tech. I did not know why, not immediately. Why would he choose me instead of someone on the brink of death? Did he know I was planning to betray him?


    I came back soon afterward. I was too good at what I did for the discussions to take so long. I arrived in Echo City no longer human. I told Nathaniel where to go and what to steal. I needed the card used in the Perma Tech phone. It was the only other example of the technology in existence. I had to learn how it could be undone, how it was built and how it could fail. I knew more than most in the business, but not everything.


    I waited in his apartment while the rest of the world thought I was halfway across the globe. Anders had since I had gotten back from China and hadn¡¯t let up even after the conference. I had a plan, but it was cowardly. I felt guilty when I first met him, and even more so when I watched him walk through the door with the chip in hand. His smile made it only more tragic. It was all necessary. I didn¡¯t have a choice.

 Chapter 10: A Sudden Shift

    Chapter 10: A Sudden Shift


    There is no feeling like that of victory. A heist pulled off successfully floods the body with more euphoria than the drop of a rollercoaster. I had missed the sensation. When I returned to my home and saw Amahle, I was in a great mood. Not a thing could stop that.


    ¡°Did you get it or not?¡± She asked.


    ¡°You tell me,¡± I responded as I held up the small piece of advanced hardware. It was strange for a sim card, something that was usually small and whose purpose was straightforward. This was bulkier and held secrets unbound. Amahle sprung up from the couch she was lounging on, walking toward me in elegant strides. She inspected what I held.


    ¡°Good job, Nathaniel.¡± She nearly smiled. I laughed.


    ¡°Amahle, there¡¯s no need to be so nervous. I got it. We got it.¡± I placed the card down on my kitchen counter. Amahle didn¡¯t pick it up. ¡°They think you¡¯re in Ireland, right?¡±


    ¡°Iceland,¡± she groaned. ¡°Pay attention.¡±


    ¡°Iceland, one of my top locations to visit. They think you¡¯re all the way over there, so we have time. If I had to guess, probably a week until they notice.¡±


    ¡°Less than that.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Less than a week.¡± I had gotten accustomed to her corrections. She was particular about details and didn¡¯t appreciate my poetic approach. Amahle¡¯s qualities made sense for her job, though I had expected her to act differently off the clock. ¡°Still, that¡¯s plenty of time to reverse-engineer this thing.¡± I waited for Amahle to respond. ¡°So, when are we going to get those engineers? Maybe we should call them anti-engineers since they¡¯re reversing the process.¡±


    ¡°How are you so energetic?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Good question. Probably the caffeine.¡± Acknowledging my growing hunger and waning alertness, I went to make myself a meal. I was in the mood for something easy, so I opened the freezer and scanned my inventory. I turned back.


    ¡°Do you need anything?¡± I asked. ¡°Literally, I mean. Do you need food at all?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t, but I still eat,¡± she responded. ¡°It¡¯s a difficult habit to break.¡±


    ¡°So is that a yes on dinner?¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s good.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a yes,¡± I replied. I picked out a premier frozen curry and placed it in the microwave. While I waited, I got curious. Amahle had told me the essential details when we were in the diner, but as always, the more she explained, the more I was confused.


    ¡°How do you know you¡¯re immortal?¡± I questioned. Amahle looked at me as if I had disappointed her.


    ¡°Explain.¡±


    ¡°How can you be sure that the Perma Tech works on you the same as it works on phones and simple things?¡±


    ¡°Do you think I just assumed it did?¡± Amahle retorted. I paused. That was exactly what I thought. I didn¡¯t admit it, of course. ¡°The human brain, and the body in general, is more complex than anything else Antler manufactures. When I realized I had been transformed,¡± she stopped, ¡°Forcibly altered, I was not leaving anything up to assumption. It was my life. It is my life, Nathaniel.¡±


    ¡°Amahle, tell me you didn¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about this. Your food is almost done.¡±


    I nodded. It was not in my nature to make someone reveal their secrets. I swiveled around to a delicious smell and retrieved the now steaming curry. I gave Amahle and myself a serving and then poured each of us a drink, though I knew full well she could no longer feel intoxicated. It was odd to interact with someone immortal, but I wasn¡¯t complaining.


    ¡°It¡¯s ready,¡± I told her. She must have smelled how good my cooking was. She pulled the chair back and sat down. I prepared myself for the necessary sustenance, while she prepared herself for an indulgence.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t coming,¡± Amahle said without moving a muscle. My smile froze on my face in disbelief.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°There aren¡¯t any anti-engineers coming, Nathaniel.¡±


    ¡°I believe you said-¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say we were going to have outside help. I know quite a bit, so I¡¯ll be the one reverse-engineering.¡±


    I paused, processing her words.


    ¡°Amahle, you lied.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t lie. You just misheard me,¡± she argued calmly. My smile disappeared.


    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend that¡¯s different,¡± I stated. She still did not turn to face me. ¡°You knew full well that I believed something untrue. What¡¯s the difference between that and a lie?¡± I waited, anger building inside me. ¡°Amahle!¡± I yelled.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°Fine!¡± She screamed back. In one movement she stood up to face me, her eyes both competitive and sad. ¡°I lied! You believed whatever I said, so I misled you! We can¡¯t have other people in on this, Nathaniel. You may not have realized it, but you just committed a crime. A crime against the last man you want to make an enemy of. I couldn¡¯t have you hesitate.¡±


    ¡°Why me?¡± I asked. She stared at me, eventually sighing her frustration out.


    ¡°It¡¯s because I knew you. I knew enough about you to know how you would act. You just fit the profile.¡±


    ¡°Profile?¡±


    ¡°Nathaniel Hensley, impulsive former thief turned straight-laced fashion agent, given full immunity for his actions that led to the arrest of more than thirty infamous thieves and criminals,¡± she said blandly. I was surprised.


    ¡°Ah, so that¡¯s what you heard,¡± I replied. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Since I was a criminal, you thought I would go along with anything.¡±


    ¡°More or less.¡±


    ¡°I suppose there wasn¡¯t any engineer who also would be on board with all this.¡±


    ¡°No. I checked.¡±


    I took off my jacket, resigning to her reasoning for now. I needed to sit down. My meal was getting cold.


    ¡°How long do you think it¡¯ll take you to figure out how Perma Tech works?¡± I asked. She shook her head. Before she could speak, my phone made a peculiar noise. I pulled it out and read what appeared. It wasn¡¯t often an alert was sent out to residents of Echo. The only time it had occurred since my arrival was to inform the citizens of high winds later that day. As always, the prediction was correct. I turned on the TV and was greeted with unfortunate news.


    ¡°CEO of Antler Industries, Anders Askeland, has informed us here at ECN about some breaking news relating to the release of Perma Tech. For anyone unaware, the ubiquitous Antler Industries recently announced their line of indestructible phones.¡± I saw the anchor hesitate as though what she was being told was being edited on the fly. ¡°We have been told there have been attempts made to steal Perma Tech, though none successful. Mr. Askeland has also clarified that the release will not be delayed, and should be expected within the next two months. With this news comes quite a few questions: which parties attempted this crime, will this affect the scope of the release, and many other concerns. We have a panel of experts who are here to talk about the implications, so please-¡±


    I shut the screen off. I stood up and approached the window. All the citizens outside walked around in the fading light. Some of them gazed up at my building. It seemed like all of them were looking at me. They could be threats. I shut the blinds.


    Anders had noticed the theft, and the rest of his words were covering this blunder. He was not a man to delay the release of a product, no matter how unimportant. He wanted to be infallible, and making public the heist of his newest product would only tarnish his impenetrable reputation. The fact remained that I didn¡¯t have a week. I didn¡¯t know how much time I had left. My apartment suddenly felt hot and my head was ringing.


    ¡°Nathaniel,¡± said Amahle Imada. She decided to stand up and face me. There wasn¡¯t sufficient worry on her face. I didn¡¯t know if she was trustworthy.


    ¡°How did they know?¡± I questioned. She took too long to answer. ¡°How did they know? Did you do something? What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. This only could have happened if someone already suspected us.¡±


    ¡°You. They suspected you.¡±


    ¡°Either of us,¡± she said. I narrowed my eyes. Her answers were not only annoying, but evasive.


    ¡°I¡¯m harboring not just the most valuable invention on the planet, but a liar as well.¡± The frustration seeped back into the front of my throat. My thoughts began to run wild. I had been tricked, lied to, and backed into a corner. She was against me. This city was against me.


    ¡°Nathaniel, all we have to do is follow the plan-¡±


    ¡°Maybe I should just turn you in,¡± I responded. I wished to see fear on her face, but I saw calm. I hated Amahle Imada.


    ¡°You want to save yourself. I understand. If that was an option, I would fully expect you to take it. I didn¡¯t hire you for your moral integrity.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®if¡¯?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you call Anders and turn me in. The damage is done. You went against him, and he will not let you cleanse yourself of that sin.¡±


    I stared at her but saw no signs of dishonesty. I paced to the door and locked it. My body was overheating. Yet again, I had been tricked. Amahle knew this would happen. She was just like him, an overbearing figure that believed themself a god.


    When did she plan this out? Was it when I had walked into the headquarters on my first day? Was I placed on this cursed path months ago? The more I considered my situation, the more I felt hatred toward the people around me. There is no worse feeling than the upheaval of one¡¯s world. She had caused it.


    ¡°How do I know you aren¡¯t bluffing?¡±


    ¡°What are the odds of me lying about it? How much do you value your freedom? Plug that into an equation in your head and decide. I¡¯ll tell you right now, it¡¯s too risky to turn me in.¡±


    I ran my hands through my hair as if with enough repetition and force I could morph the shape. It was never so easy to change. She was immortal, now disconnected from the fears that plagued humanity. It was easy for her to make decisions on life. That was her flaw, the same that Anders had. They had confidence where they should have had doubts.


    People are flawed. The sentiment is echoed in philosophy, media, and the voices that speak to you while you try to sleep. That voice which makes it difficult to sleep, and worse to be awake. I always had a problem accepting this. When I saw the failures of someone great, I wished and believed that it was a purposeful fall. It was optimism. A world with geniuses is better than one filled with short-sighted idiots. Such a belief is what made me feel hatred toward Amahle, but she was not doing this with perfect foresight. I believed her to be a genius, but luck is rarely so kind. She was trying, but her mistakes were not intended. I cooled down. Amahle was not lying¡ªnot about anything.


    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    ¡°Same one as before. First step, I figure out this tech.¡±


    ¡°Take no offense from this, Amahle, but can you really do that? Didn¡¯t you major in numbers?¡± I joked. She glared at me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be condescending. I have spoken to every person who has worked on this. I had to learn what they did, why it was important, everything.¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s no other choice. I¡¯ll have to continue going to work. You¡¯ll have to stay here.¡±


    ¡°Look, Nathaniel, I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Amahle. I met her eyes, finding a mixture of human and something unknown. I looked away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be. I¡¯ve always found that saying sorry is rarely needed. Either you did something on accident, which would mean an apology is unneeded, or you did something on purpose and regret the consequences, which means you¡¯ve already learned.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s surprisingly wise. Not true, but it sounds wise.¡±


    I sighed. She never let up. I went back to my now room-temperature curry and began to eat. If I had been the main suspect, I would already be caught. The fact I was here safe meant it must have been Amahle or someone else. The only reason she hadn¡¯t come to this conclusion was because she couldn¡¯t consider herself a criminal, even after all this. I smirked.


    ¡°What are you smiling about?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I just realized that Anders didn¡¯t show his face on the news earlier. My guess is that he was too annoyed.¡±


    Amahle laughed. It was a small victory, but it would have to do.

 Chapter 11: Risky Information

    Chapter Eleven: Risky Information


    Once I had determined that Amahle was at risk, she didn¡¯t leave my apartment. During that time, she was focused entirely on analyzing the Perma Tech sim card to understand how it functioned. I could provide no help to her in this regard, but I still had a role to play. I was an important figure in the business, and now that we had a set date for the launch of the new flagship phone with integrated Perma Tech, I was busier than ever.


    Three days had passed since the heist. I walked into the headquarters of Antler right on time and I was greeted by Will, who now showed a more honest expression on his face. He wasn¡¯t unhappy, but I could tell he was conflicted about interacting with me.


    ¡°Mr. Hensley,¡± he stated, with his bushy beard muffling his words. I thought the chances were high that underneath the gruff demeanor, he had a hint of happiness.


    ¡°Will, good morning,¡± I responded in kind. I was always clean-shaven, so he could see my smile. I couldn¡¯t let myself appear any different than usual. I was Nathaniel Hensley. I was happy, charming, and calm as could be.


    I continued on, first to my office on the third floor to pick up some papers, and then back into the elevator. I found a new face already inside.


    ¡°I¡¯m going up,¡± I informed them.


    ¡°Ah, me too,¡± they responded in turn. Their hair was platinum-blonde and waist-length. It was a daring look in the fashion industry, even more so in the bland tech business I found myself in. They had sharp, green eyes and a delicate stance. They were a breath of fresh air.


    ¡°I¡¯m Nathaniel Hensley, marketing.¡±


    ¡°Nathaniel Hensley?¡± They replied in a pleasant hum. I waited for them to continue, but their voice never picked back up. I reached my arm out to press the button for my floor but stopped. Whoever this person was, they were going to see Anders.


    ¡°I think you may have the wrong floor. Mr. Askeland is out of the city.¡±


    ¡°He isn¡¯t. He called for me,¡± they said matter-of-factly. I suppressed my surprise. For Anders to call for someone specifically, either they were in trouble or they were important. From the expression of this person, they weren¡¯t afraid. They had some value, so much so that Anders wished to speak to them.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. He¡¯s rarely in so I just assumed. What are you here to see him for?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s regarding Perma Tech. You forgot to press the button.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± I stated before slowly pushing for the fifth floor. My mind was racing, attempting desperately to think of a reason they would be here. I kept my expression calm, not that they ever looked at me.


    ¡°Do you have a business card?¡± I asked. ¡°It would be good for me to know one of the engineers, in case I need to contact you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not an engineer,¡± they stated. Swiftly, they pulled out a card from their pocket and handed it to me. I scanned the piece of paper. My throat went dry.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard quite a bit about you, Hadrian Jade.¡±


    The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and Hadrian finally looked at me.


    ¡°Are you going to get out?¡±


    ¡°My mistake, I meant to press twenty,¡± I explained as coolly as I could. Hadrian raised a groomed eyebrow.


    ¡°You meant to go to the infirmary?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I did,¡± I said with a laugh. I forgot that this building was practically an entire city in itself, with a hospital in the middle for efficiency. ¡°Not for me. I¡¯m fit as a fiddle. I just have to go check on an employee who was feeling under the weather earlier.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s kind of you.¡±


    ¡°May I ask what the head of AI research is doing here?¡±


    ¡°Can you press your floor first?¡± Hadrian asked. I obliged. ¡°I¡¯m here for Perma Tech. There¡¯s an issue Anders wants to talk about.¡±


    ¡°Anders? You two must be close.¡±


    ¡°Not that much. I appreciate him. I would say,¡± Hadrian stopped to consider, ¡°Anders is the best person I¡¯ve ever met.¡±


    ¡°He certainly does more than anyone I know,¡± I responded. We were rapidly going through the floors, but luckily there were a few stops to pick up other employees. Hadrian kept standing there calmly, as if their presence wasn¡¯t drawing everyone¡¯s attention. After the eleventh floor, we were back to being the only ones in the elevator. I had to risk something to get information back.


    ¡°It has to do with integration into organic compounds, doesn¡¯t it?¡± I asked. Hadrian turned their head and stared at me with an amused expression. I could tell I was onto something. ¡°If I had to guess, the AI has difficulty keeping up with the malleability of a lifeform, even something small like a bacteria.¡± Hadrian crossed their arms, now facing me head-on. I deduced that if Amahle was working so fervently on the Perma Tech, the issue would have to be threatening to her as well. ¡°Does it stop functioning? Does it cause damage instead of reversing it?¡± I questioned. The small-framed Hadrian kept their stance for a few seconds, finally laughing. They laughed as freely as a close friend does, not covering their quirks in the slightest.


    ¡°That was impressive. I bet you could sound like an expert in any field after reading a summary for ten minutes. By the way, bacteria are incredibly malleable, but still, you sure used those words well. I get why Anders hired you. Very clever,¡± Hadrian added, continuing to laugh. ¡°If that were an issue, that would be far more interesting. No, this one is much less important. I¡¯m surprised I was called here, actually. Anders must have some reason for thinking I need to solve this so quickly.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the problem, then?¡±


    ¡°Ah, right,¡± said Hadrian with a wave of the hand. ¡°It¡¯s not integration, but rather how good that integration is. Anders informed me that it seems as though Perma Tech might be difficult to remove¡ªfrom complex systems at least. In phones, it¡¯s as simple as removing the sim card.¡± I nodded, remembering doing that very thing to the phone. It was strange Hadrian was telling me these things. Either they trusted me or they didn¡¯t value their secrets much. ¡°With organic compounds, with life, the process could be much more complicated.¡±


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    ¡°That makes sense,¡± I responded. Hadrian chuckled again. Truth was, it didn¡¯t make sense to me. I knew that whatever this was, it had to do with Amahle. That must have been why Anders was so keen on seeing his head researcher. However, it seemed like Hadrian had no idea that Amahle existed, or rather, the prototype she had become. That left me with the question of who implanted her with Perma Tech if one of the most important researchers was in the dark. The elevator doors opened to the floor I had chosen, and I had no further excuse to continue our conversation. If I did, they might bring me up to Anders, who would suspect me immediately. Hadrian laughed once more as I left. The doors closed as they went to see Anders. I had to know what was happening.


    I waited twenty seconds and then pressed for another elevator. I got in and immediately aimed for the top. There was only one elevator that went directly to Anders¡¯ office, and it was only accessible by him and a few others. Even Hadrian took the normal route, which meant he had to stop by the penultimate floor and speak to Anders¡¯ assistant. That could buy me a bit of time, but not unless I could get by the assistant too. The doors opened, interrupting my trip.


    ¡°Emergency. Gotta see the boss as quickly as possible, sorry!¡± I exclaimed to the confused face of an Antler employee. I repeated this maneuver twice more until I finally reached my destination. I exited, looking around to see if I had arrived at the same time as Hadrian. The coast was clear, which meant they had already passed by. I approached the assistant sitting behind a desk. She wore her hair in a chignon, a style I rarely saw outside of France. We locked eyes.


    ¡°Mr. Hensley! What are you doing up here?¡± She asked, kindly. I pulled out my wallet, along with Hadrian¡¯s card.


    ¡°Erin, pleasure to see you,¡± I greeted, glad to have pristine eyesight. ¡°Have you seen Hadrian Jade? I think they lost their wallet,¡± I explained while approaching her. I held the business card in front of my wallet to trick Erin into believing they belonged to the same person. I had to hope she didn¡¯t want to open the wallet.


    ¡°I just saw them!¡± said Erin, excitedly. ¡°I can keep it and give it to them when they get back,¡± she continued while extending her arm.


    ¡°Actually Erin, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d feel better giving it to them in person. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t trust you-¡±


    ¡°I understand completely Mr. Hensley. You can wait until Hadrian gets back,¡± Erin compromised. I contorted my face into an honest expression of discomfort.


    ¡°Ah, but I do need to get back. I have some important work to do regarding Perma Tech. And you know how long Anders¡¯ meetings can go,¡± I explained. She nodded.


    ¡°Hours, sometimes. But I¡¯m sorry Mr. Hensley, I only let people up to see him if they have an appointment or he approves of it over the phone, and he told me not to interrupt him.¡±


    I kept my face serene, but the longer I spoke with her, the more I would miss out on.


    ¡°Ah! How about I leave the wallet outside the office?¡± I asked in a eureka moment. ¡°That way I won¡¯t interrupt their meeting, but since no one else can go up there, the wallet will be safe!¡± Erin considered the notion, ignoring the parts that made little sense and instead clung to my perceived confidence. A bad idea was easy to sell if you spoke the right way.


    ¡°Okay, but make sure to leave it in a spot where Hadrian will spot it.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I agreed. Erin opened the special elevator and I was soon up to the top floor of Antler for the second time. I heard faint voices coming from down the luxurious hallway. Anders had kept most of the details the same, save for some of the artwork being replaced. I approached in quiet footsteps as their voices grew louder. I could not decipher the muffled sounds from a safe distance, so I had to keep reducing the distance. I eventually stood right next to the doors and still could not easily understand their conversation. I pressed my ear to the gap in the middle and listened.


    ¡°There is no such thing as too little risk, Hadrian. It either exists or it does not. I will not have risk exist.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. I suppose it is possible. However, you don¡¯t have to remove it to remove the risk.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Anders asked.


    ¡°Any issue with the product can be fixed remotely. It¡¯s all connected to our servers.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just where the backups are kept.¡±


    ¡°Right now, yes. Securely. But if we want to fix some issue across the board-¡±


    ¡°Do it.¡±


    There was a pause, but I could not see what was happening.


    ¡°I respect you immensely, sir, but I don¡¯t know if what I said is strictly a good idea.¡±


    ¡°Hadrian Jade, I respect the work you¡¯ve done for me. Hardly anybody can appreciate what you¡¯ve done, and yet you work so diligently. What do you do it for, Hadrian? It¡¯s not fame nor riches, which you could find elsewhere.¡±


    ¡°I like the work I get to do, Anders.¡± A pause again. ¡°I want to work with you.¡±


    ¡°And what work we¡¯ve done, Hadrian. When I look at the appreciation of the masses, it pales in comparison to what you and I know. Perma Tech is beautiful. I don¡¯t want it to be sullied by flaws in the system. That defeats the purpose of what we¡¯ve built.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Anders.¡± I could not see Hadrian¡¯s face, but they sounded conflicted. ¡°I¡¯ll modify the servers as soon as I can.¡±


    ¡°Contact me when you do,¡± replied Anders. I heard the shuffling of feet. Hadrian was preparing to leave. Still, I did not leave my position. The footsteps approached, and I could hear Hadrian¡¯s hand touch the handle on the other side.


    ¡°Anders, how did you figure out this issue?¡± There was a long silence yet again. Hadrian''s hand left the handle. They were facing Anders. ¡°You know a lot about Perma Tech, of course, but nobody knows more than I do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s quite right.¡±


    ¡°So how did you figure it out?¡±


    ¡°When Einstein described relativity, he had not done experiments. He did not have observation to rely on. His entire system was based on his own thoughts, theoretical questions and theoretical answers. It took some time for the world to trust every word. It required evidence. Hadrian, what would you prefer, theory or evidence?¡±


    ¡°I work in intelligence, Anders. I prefer evidence.¡±


    ¡°Then that¡¯s what I¡¯ve gathered.¡±


    I stood upright, my eyes wide. I was not an expert, but I understood enough. I ran as softly as I could to the elevator and made my way back down. I saw Erin, who sat with her arms crossed.


    ¡°Took a while, huh?¡± She asked. I hastily plastered a smile onto my face.


    ¡°I had to make sure Hadrian would see the wallet.¡± I continued by and got to the elevator. I could hear her sigh behind me. I didn¡¯t care. All that mattered was that she didn¡¯t tell anyone I was up here. I turned around.


    ¡°I heard some yelling while I was up there.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± exclaimed Erin. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure not to bother Hadrian, then. Thank you for telling me.¡±


    ¡°No problem.¡± I entered the elevator and went back down. I skipped my floor and exited the building entirely. Will looked at me oddly as I strode past him. I didn¡¯t have time to talk to him. I ran home, cursing myself for sweating in one of my nicest suits. I opened the door and saw Amahle at a desk she had set up for her studies. Her head swiveled up at my sound.


    ¡°Did you run?¡±


    ¡°Amahle, Hadrian-¡± I stopped to catch my breath.


    ¡°You met Hadrian Jade?¡± she asked. I nodded. ¡°I only met them a few times. Definitely a genius. What happened?¡± She waited patiently as I panted and panted. Eventually, I felt good enough to speak.


    ¡°Your life is in danger.¡±

 Chapter 12: Detective Henrietta

    Chapter 12: Detective Henrietta


    At the beginning and the end of it all, there was Henrietta. She was an excellent detective, so excellent that she got corrupt superiors arrested. People were scared to hire her, for fear of their pasts coming to light. Still, she was a commodity to have for anyone who wanted to solve cases. Her work ethic was bizarre, to the point that she would sometimes go for nights without sleeping just to study evidence, and other times would solve a case after practically ignoring it for weeks. No one understood her methods, except perhaps me. There¡¯s no closer bond than that of the criminal and the one who caught them.


    Henrietta knew who I was, and I knew her. She always saw the good in people first, despite what many thought. Upon exhausting her optimism, she finally was forced to see the bad. Henrietta appreciated a good joke, even though she rarely admitted it to me. She ate spicy food and regretted it every time. I can¡¯t quite say if she was a good person, much less great, but I appreciated her. She was reliable. That¡¯s a quality that is greatly underappreciated.


    A few days after I met Hadrian and returned hastily to my apartment, Detective Henrietta walked into the lobby of Antler with a bit of a racket. Her boots made a clack, and she tested the limits of their engineering with how hard she stomped her feet. Everyone in the large room was forced to look at her. That included Will. She wore a dark trench coat despite the clear weather.


    ¡°Detective,¡± Will greeted. Henrietta glared at him.


    ¡°Look who it is, Mr. Happy looks a bit sad now. When was the last time you shaved?¡± She questioned. Will scowled. Henrietta walked by him.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Will exclaimed. She stopped and turned around. ¡°Where are you going? Mr. Hensley is busy.¡±


    ¡°Not here to see him,¡± responded Henrietta. Will didn¡¯t budge, which caused Henrietta a great deal of annoyance. ¡°Fine, here you go.¡± She showed him her phone, which caused Will to let her pass. Henrietta continued to the elevator while quickly sending a message a text.


    She didn¡¯t like heights. To her, it made sense for architecture to stay close to the ground. Perhaps she also didn¡¯t like it because all the tallest buildings were made by Antler, and she despised Antler. She always had. All of her attire was non-Antler, which was a feat by itself. She had to buy from independent sources or objectively worse companies. It didn¡¯t matter to her. She would sacrifice quality if it meant not succumbing to a company like Antler. It¡¯s not that there was an abundance of lawsuits against them or a history of shady practices. It was the perfection of their image that bothered Henrietta. She didn¡¯t believe any of it.


    Henrietta stepped out on the top floor, meeting a kind face.


    ¡°Detective Henrietta?¡± asked Erin, the receptionist. Henrietta¡¯s demeanor softened.


    ¡°Here to meet with Anders.¡±


    ¡°Okay, just one second while I inform him you¡¯re here.¡± Erin picked up the phone and said a few words before hanging up. ¡°He¡¯s ready, Detective.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± replied Henrietta. She continued into the special elevator and rose to the top floor. Despite her disdain for being this high up, she continued to walk with incredible volume. She strode down the floor and knocked on Anders¡¯ door. Before he could answer, she entered. Henrietta didn¡¯t consider this some social strategy. To her, it was logical. If Anders was ready, there was no need to wait for his response.


    ¡°Detective,¡± declared Anders. He stood near his desk. His face was confident and relaxed. He was dressed formally, though it was clear he had come from some event that required it. He had since taken off his blazer, which only made him appear taller.


    ¡°Anders Askeland,¡± Henrietta replied. She did not sit down.


    ¡°You called me, Detective. If you don¡¯t mind, can you tell me what is so important?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You can take a seat if you want.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just fine standing. There¡¯s always a seat for you too, Detective.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    The two of them looked quite silly, choosing to stand for some hidden reason that neither fully understood. Anders remained relaxed.


    ¡°I did cursory research about you, Detective. I found your cases solved immensely interesting, though I found equal numbers of faults.¡±


    Henrietta twitched.


    ¡°What faults?¡±


    ¡°You are aware that it¡¯s impressive to work together with others, correct?¡± asked Anders in an honest tone. ¡°I have noticed that many believe it better to win by themselves, to solve problems by themselves. This is not true.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it isn¡¯t?¡± Henrietta asked with a tenuous grasp on her frustration.


    ¡°No. Humans are only as advanced as we are because their specific attributes allow them to work together superbly. There are other animals with larger brains, with more durable bodies. Humans, by themselves, without ever having the benefit of thousands of years of learning, would be terribly incapable. They would appear less intelligent than an octopus or a whale. This is both impressive and a good reminder. You should make use of other humans.¡±


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    ¡°That¡¯s what you do, isn¡¯t it?¡± replied Henrietta. Anders looked at her, curious. Henrietta noticed that his eyebrows were groomed. When he raised them like that, he didn¡¯t appear natural.


    ¡°Yes, it is.¡±


    ¡°How unfortunate that you don¡¯t see that as a flaw.¡±


    ¡°Detective, what is it you want to tell me?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about an employee of yours.¡±


    Anders remained unperturbed, but Henrietta could tell it was a facade. He had a lot of practice hiding his intentions.


    ¡°Who are you referring to?¡±


    ¡°So you don¡¯t know?¡± asked Henrietta. She couldn¡¯t hide a smile. Anders went and picked up his drink. Henrietta was surprised Anders Askeland drank alcohol.


    ¡°I do not appreciate your tone, Detective. If you wish to anger me, I would recommend you direct your efforts elsewhere.¡±


    Henrietta could not tell if this was an insult or advice. Considering who she was speaking to, she assumed it was both.


    ¡°I saw that news report a week ago. You claimed some people ¡®attempted¡¯ to steal from Antler. Did you wonder if it was an inside job?¡±


    ¡°Detective, I will not repeat myself.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll save you the trouble,¡± said the proud Henrietta. ¡°It was an inside job. Not only that, I think that the theft was successful. It¡¯s not illegal to lie to the media, so don¡¯t worry.¡±


    Anders set his glass back down and walked to the window. He avoided looking at her, or perhaps he wanted to pretend Henrietta was gone for a moment. She hated it.


    ¡°Now that I see your faults in person, it makes even more sense.¡±


    ¡°Are you lashing out? I was only laying all the facts out,¡± added Henrietta. She was enjoying this.


    ¡°There exists in nature a trend, Detective. This trend is pervasive in its silence. The cosmos do not send us any message, which tells us all we need to know. We are headed toward demise. A permanent demise. All species, across all space and time, are doomed to end. We do not know why, but it remains true. I have been working to avoid this fate, Detective.¡±


    ¡°Why are you telling me all that?¡± asked Henrietta. It made sense that Anders liked to monologue, but Henrietta was the worst person to practice speeches on. Her patience was thin.


    ¡°When you speak to me, no matter how rude you choose to be, I cannot see it as important. Nothing else is important. Say what you want to say or leave, Detective. I do not have time for this.¡±


    ¡°Fine. It¡¯s Nathaniel Hensley.¡±


    There was a silence as Anders did not move. Henrietta stared closely to make sure he was still breathing. This was what she hoped would make him break, to cause him discomfort. She had been looking forward to it.


    ¡°Nathaniel, you say?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Not only is he the one behind this theft, but it¡¯s not his first. He¡¯s a former criminal.¡±


    ¡°How did you learn this information?¡±


    This question was expected. Anders was a logical man, so he wouldn¡¯t proceed emotionally. He had to know how this related to him and his business.


    ¡°I worked on a case of his before. I followed him here, and I made the connection between the news and his actions.¡±


    ¡°I see. You said former?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He was caught but released for aiding the authorities. His record was wiped clean, which is why nothing showed up when you hired him.¡±


    ¡°Detective, what you say does not add up. You followed him despite having only a slight connection. What drove you to come here?¡±


    Henrietta¡¯s expression soured. She didn¡¯t like being doubted. She liked it even less coming from the neutral face of Anders Askeland.


    ¡°Nathaniel is not an ordinary criminal. The ones who cleared him didn¡¯t care, but I knew he would do something again. He¡¯s impulsive. He¡¯s smart, but he¡¯s not¡­detail-oriented. His goals aren¡¯t always that wise, but he makes them work. That¡¯s the kind of person I have to track.¡±


    ¡°How did he steal it?¡± asked Anders. Henrietta was surprised that he would admit this to her. He told the media that the attempt failed, yet was ready to tell the truth once confronted. She knew this meant that he cared. He could try to hide it, but what she said affected him.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I mean when I say he isn¡¯t ordinary. What he steals is strange and how he pulls it off is stranger. If I had to guess, he had help.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know who helped him?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± replied Henrietta while narrowing her eyes. Anders asked annoying questions. He still faced the city, his arms crossed behind him.


    ¡°Another flaw.¡±


    Henrietta gritted her teeth.


    ¡°The biggest flaw is your security, Anders. Your most important invention was stolen.¡±


    Anders finally turned back around. He strode to his desk and sat down.


    ¡°I understand. Thank you for telling me.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± responded Henrietta. She felt whiplash from the change in mood. She was hoping for him to be annoyed, or doubtful, or anything other than what he was. ¡°Do you have any questions?¡±


    ¡°Many, but your answers are limited,¡± answered Anders. Henrietta opened her mouth to insult him, but was interrupted. ¡°Actually, I do have one for you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± sighed Henrietta.


    ¡°Would you like to work here?¡±


    Henrietta stared at Anders, the foremost tech entrepreneur and the closest humanity would ever get to a god amongst them. She laughed. She laughed and laughed as if such a thing were natural for her. Every time she began to calm down, she replayed his question again in her head and began to laugh once more. Anders didn¡¯t flinch. He sat there, watching Detective Henrietta chuckle until her stomach hurt.


    ¡°No, Anders.¡±


    Anders nodded.


    ¡°That¡¯ll do. Thank you for coming by.¡±


    Henrietta left the building still chuckling. Will had to double-check it was indeed her, the woman he had attempted to blackmail before. She was unrecognizable. Henrietta stepped out onto the sidewalk next to Antler and pulled out her phone. Her typing was slowed down by the leftover laughter. Finally, she pressed send. She looked up at the cloudy sky as her face slowly returned to its normal unhappy state.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope that worked, Nathaniel.¡±

 Chapter 13: On The Run

    Chapter 13: On The Run


    I¡¯m not a good person. There was always a severe disconnect between how I was perceived and who I was, but it was never more apparent than when I worked in fashion. I should have been treated as a villain, as a despicable human, but I wasn¡¯t. Everyone loved me. Even more so, I began to love myself a little bit more each day. The world was slowly convincing me that I wasn¡¯t all that evil. I didn¡¯t mention my past to other people, much less myself. So, I became someone else.


    That¡¯s the beauty of humans. They¡¯re changeable. They¡¯re malleable. One moment, they can be enthralled in a sport, and the next they only care about woodworking. I¡¯ve tried to take that lesson to heart. I didn¡¯t change my name¡ªI was born Nathaniel Hensley and I like that name. I was born with a love for the exciting and I don¡¯t want that to change. I will admit that I was born and at some unfortunate point, or perhaps a sequence of points forming a terrible line, I became a man I¡¯m not proud of. That¡¯s the ugliness of humans.


    That¡¯s why I wanted to help Amahle Imada. Yes, it¡¯s true that I agreed with her cause, to an extent. But all I wanted was to become someone else, a man who could be loved. I wouldn¡¯t change my name, but I would make the man with that name unrecognizable. How was I to do that? I was at a loss. How is a thief supposed to behave as innocent? All they would end up portraying is a lying thief. No, I had to act in reverse to my past. I would have to be good, to be great.


    So, I helped Amahle Imada. I don¡¯t regret it.


    Amahle sat back, sighed, and relaxed her expression.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°What? You know?¡± I screeched.


    ¡°Quiet down. God,¡± Amahle pleaded. ¡°All I said was I know.¡±


    ¡°Yea, you know you could die! That¡¯s very important knowledge! Here I thought the only one who couldn¡¯t die was you!¡±


    ¡°I said quiet down. How did you find this out? Hadrian shouldn¡¯t have known.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well,¡± I felt a bit better remembering my sneaky mission, ¡°I listened in on a conversation between Hadrian and Anders.¡±


    ¡°So he knew,¡± mumbled Amahle. I didn¡¯t quite know what she meant, but we had more pressing issues. I closed the door behind me, realizing that this conversation should stay private. I was only slightly annoyed that she wasn¡¯t impressed by my eavesdropping.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ve noticed your absence, but no promises.¡±


    ¡°I organized things so it would appear as though I was too busy to be reached. It makes me look like a bad employee, but not gone entirely. No, he knows the official prototype has been stolen. That¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°I think it might be suspicious for you to be a bad employee, but fair enough. He doesn¡¯t know who took it. That¡¯s what¡¯s important.¡±


    Amahle shifted in her chair. I decided to leave the discussion aside.


    That day went as well as the days prior. Amahle continued to work, and I considered the risk of going to work the next day. Every time I walked through those doors, I could be arrested on the spot. The only thing providing me solace is that, most likely, I wouldn¡¯t need to go all the way to the headquarters to be arrested. The authorities were polite in that regard. They always came to pick you up, so you could stay put.


    The next morning, I dressed in a black suit, left early, and had a day filled with normal tasks for my position. I was not yet detained. I returned home.


    ¡°Have you found anything?¡± I asked Amahle. She was scarce on updates, and I was itching for good news. She sat in the same position, which was probably a result of her cyborg nature. She was impervious to lower back pain.


    ¡°Yes and no. The issue is that I can¡¯t recall how the technology was put into me. It had to be different than this,¡± she motioned toward the sim card. ¡°It had to be organic. You could call it biodegradable. Over time, it melts into the surrounding host. That¡¯s my best guess.¡±


    ¡°Hadrian did say it was complicated.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one way to summarize it. Anyway, I can gather certain qualities from this card, but I can¡¯t assume that it would work the same, whatever they turned me into.¡±


    It was becoming a trend for Amahle to give me setbacks instead of successes in her research.


    ¡°So we haven¡¯t gained any ground,¡± I said, bluntly. She paused.


    ¡°No, we have not. Are you angry?¡±


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    ¡°No, not yet.¡±


    I turned and went out the door. I needed a walk. The rest of the night I didn¡¯t speak to Amahle, who worked diligently through the night and into the morning. I went to work yet again, and I was still not in handcuffs. The worry did not leave me. I acted as normally as I could at work, and left with a tired smile on my face. By the time I got home, I did not look like myself. It was a peculiar sensation, to be bound by a puzzle and have no method to solve it. I was at the mercy of Amahle¡¯s intellect, and despite her pedigree, it took a toll on my state of mind.


    ¡°Amahle, what have you found?¡± I questioned. She didn¡¯t turn her head.


    ¡°Much the same. Though, I do have a theory for how they turned Hadrian¡¯s work into a biological component. Do you know of epigenetics?¡±


    ¡°Amahle, that sounds like nothing.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s something. It¡¯s about modifiable gene activity.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant. It sounds like you haven¡¯t gotten anything. That¡¯s nothing. You¡¯ve found nothing. Nothing useful.¡± I paced about my apartment quickly, though I had no destination. I had to move.


    ¡°I disagree, Nathaniel. This is useful. Now I have an idea of how it works. It is most likely a combination of genetic and delayed-epigenetic changes to my body. Whoever worked on this after Hadrian was good.¡±


    I took my jacket off and loosened my tie. It was raining outside. The weather in Echo always changed so quickly.


    ¡°Amahle, that¡¯s not enough. It¡¯s not nearly enough.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing else we can do, unless you¡¯ve been hiding some expert knowledge on bioengineering from me.¡±


    This was the first time Amahle had been sarcastic with me, or perhaps it was an honest thought. However, it didn¡¯t bother me. She inspired an idea.


    ¡°I know how to make this work,¡± I said while pulling out a burner phone from my desk.


    ¡°You just have those?¡± Amahle asked.


    ¡°Yep.¡± I found the card in my wallet and entered the number. After a few rings, a familiar voice picked up. ¡°Hello, Henrietta.¡± I smiled at Amahle. ¡°Right, Detective Henreitta. Don¡¯t hang up!¡± I pleaded. ¡°I need you to talk to Anders. You just have to be honest.¡±


    The next day, Henrietta told Anders I was a criminal. A few hours later, my apartment was raided, though they found neither Amahle nor myself. Henrietta had played her part to perfection. Many areas in Echo could be rented with privacy, but Amahle and I couldn¡¯t choose those. Amahle did, as a result of her fantastic salary and knowledge of Antler''s capabilities, have a separate house that she told me was totally off the books. Upon questioning, she told me it was purchased from the owner of her favorite diner, who was quite anti-Echo himself. It was our best option, and I trusted Amahle to keep herself protected from the wrath of Anders.


    It was in the afternoon, near the time most people would like to nap, that an announcement forced itself onto the screens of Echo. Phones, computers, and even the sides of advanced buildings showed the same picture, and I had to say, I looked good.


    ¡°Nathaniel Hensley: Wanted.¡±


    I had expected as much. Henrietta¡¯s job was to inform Anders, and Anders was supposed to try and find me. Why I wanted that, well, that was my genius and my mistake.


    ¡°This employee of Antler Industries, Nathaniel Hensley, is wanted for various crimes, including grand larceny. If you have seen him or have any information as to his whereabouts, please contact the authorities. Thank you.¡±


    This message played a few times, always with my face on top. I suppose they couldn¡¯t find a bad photo of me, as much as Anders would have liked to. Amahle and I were hidden away, and no one would easily be able to track me down to this location.


    Echo City responded to the declaration with a harmonious, collective goal of catching me. I would have been impressed if it wasn¡¯t my face on the screen. Instead, because of my personal attachment, I saw how disturbing it all was. Given some message that threatens their way of life, an entire population can work together in insidious efficiency. Their agreement only births stronger agreement, and soon they can become a ravenous herd. Antler was not only the builder of this city, but the idealogue.


    From here on out, I had to be careful about leaving the house. I had to look over my shoulder, waiting for the punishment of a malevolent god. Amahle had to hide as well, but not for the same reasons. After I told her about her potential doom, she worked doubly hard, though such an estimate can¡¯t be taken seriously when she never slept anyway. I asked her once, despite evolving past the need for sleep, if she still felt odd without it. She told me to focus. It¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m patient. Those days were long, while Amahle worked, and I sat about in my worry, listening to the encroaching murmurs of Echo City.


    ¡°Nathaniel, I¡¯ve got it,¡± said Amahle one morning. I had been starving for these words.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked. She didn¡¯t like these sorts of questions.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. When do you want to start it?¡±


    I looked outside the window, hearing the distant hum of sirens and the worry of citizens. They were on peak alert. They scanned the city for my face. I couldn¡¯t imagine anywhere else on the planet behaving like this.


    ¡°Right now.¡±


    Amahle sighed.


    ¡°Okay, great. I¡¯ll have to get it set up.¡±


    ¡°What, did you want a break? I thought you didn¡¯t need those!¡± I exclaimed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t, but if you had told me earlier, I could have been ready. Instead, you tried to be cool. Being impulsive isn¡¯t cool, it¡¯s just troublesome.¡±


    Her point was valid, but she didn¡¯t want me to respond. Amahle got everything set up, and I set my phone on top of the kitchen table. It balanced against a cup, with the camera facing me. The quality was high, though not as high as Antler phones.


    ¡°Okay, we¡¯re ready to go in three, two, one,¡± Amahle pointed at me, her face somehow calm. She was a difficult one to shake. My eyes stared at the phone, and I smiled. I had always dreamed of being famous. This was a quick way to do so, even if it wasn¡¯t ideal for most.


    On the same screens around Echo City, the image suddenly changed. I was there, in video format.


    ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Nathaniel Hensley. I have something to explain to the lot of you.¡±

 Chapter 14: A Criminals Monologue

    Chapter 14: A Criminal¡¯s Monologue


    The streets of Echo City halted when my face appeared. There were traffic accidents and confused expressions, all because of my pixels on a screen. Many pulled out their phones to film, despite this happening across the entire city. I imagined the video would be uploaded right after I was finished.


    ¡°I¡¯m Nathaniel Hensley, and I have something to say to the lot of you.¡±


    I had prepared this line, but the rest I left to what sounded good in the moment. I knew the message I was trying to get across.


    ¡°I stole something from Antler Industries. The same Antler that powers your entire life.¡±


    I paused and let that sink in. It was important in speeches to allow the audience to think. Much better to make them want more rather than overwhelm them.


    ¡°What did I steal? Why did I steal it? I¡¯ve thought quite a bit about these questions and how to answer them.¡±


    From Amahle¡¯s estimate, I would have three minutes. That meant five. She was always overestimating others. I doubted they could kick me off that quickly. I imagined all the workers scrambling to get my face off the screen, but Echo was a city on the grid. It wasn¡¯t so easy.


    ¡°I stole the prototype of Perma Tech. The same that you all watched in that demonstration. It¡¯s a wonderful piece of technology.¡±


    I picked up a phone Amahle had put the Perma Tech in. It wasn¡¯t Antler, but she had figured out how to make them work together. This was only possible because the product was so adaptable.


    ¡°Here¡¯s some proof.¡±


    I took a pen from my breast pocket and in one movement jammed it into a gap in the non-Antler phone. I removed the pen as the phone made bizarre, injured noises. As expected, it began to repair, reaching its former status.


    ¡°I know you all probably wanted to see that again anyway. So you¡¯re welcome.¡±


    ***


    Dozens of blocks away, Will sat in the lobby of Antler headquarters. He wore a sour expression on his face. I hadn¡¯t informed him of this stunt. Noise grew outside the building as worried citizens tried to enter. Will watched them. To him, they appeared as insects panicking at a threat they could not comprehend. They bothered him.


    On the other side of the lobby, a figure entered through the back entrance. Will immediately stood up. This was the genius he had heard so much about, but only spoken to a few times. Someone who he trusted. An influence on the future of humankind who chose to stay unknown for reasons humble and innocent.


    ¡°Hadrian Jade. How are you?¡±


    Hadrian perked their head up from their phone.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Will. We¡¯ve met a few times.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Will! Nice to meet you!¡±


    ¡°Meet?¡± Will mumbled disappointedly to himself. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to speak with Anders again, but then I got this news.¡±


    Hadrian held up their phone, showing my face. Will frowned.


    ¡°Right, I think everyone is getting that right now.¡±


    ¡°I met this guy!¡± Hadrian added. Will raised his eyebrows.


    ¡°You did? What did he say?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember, but he was nice. Is this an elaborate advertisement?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t believe it is. I¡¯m sorry he stole your invention.¡±


    Hadrian stared at Will like his words were an alien language.


    ¡°Why would I care if he stole it?¡± Hadrian asked. Will cleared his throat.


    ¡°Well, you did work on it and all. I thought you would think of it as your child.¡±


    ¡°No, not really. Once I was finished, I didn¡¯t really care. It¡¯s sort of like proving something in math. It only matters to you until you¡¯re done. Then it¡¯s just the past.¡±


    ¡°I imagine you¡¯re speaking from experience. My apologies.¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Hadrian looked back at their phone.


    ¡°He¡¯s pretty handsome, now that I really look at him.¡±


    On my end, it wasn¡¯t looking so pretty. Outside Amahle¡¯s house, sirens threatened to uncover my location with each passing second. Amahle, however, remained calm off-camera. I was doing the heavy lifting.


    ¡°You might ask, why did I steal it? It¡¯s a fair question, and easy to answer. I did it for you, the people of Echo City. Not only you, but you all are the most influenced by Antler. It all starts here and radiates outwards toward the rest of this planet. So I did it for you.¡±


    I breathed in and kept my positive expression. I couldn¡¯t show anything but that. If I faltered, I would just be a criminal. I picked up the phone again and removed the sim card from it. I held it up in front of me. It was strange how such a small device was worth all this fuss. I didn¡¯t understand the device. I understood the fuss.


    ¡°This is what Perma Tech looks like. Surprising, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked. Then, I chuckled. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s not. Antler is an impressive company. Perhaps the most impressive company in history. I should know. I technically work for them. They haven¡¯t been able to inform me of my demotion. Yet.¡± I winked.


    Amahle waved at me and held up two fingers, signaling the number of minutes I had left. I nodded. I didn¡¯t want to end on an incomplete thought. If historical speeches had any trend, it was a strong opening and a stronger closing.


    ¡°What the hundreds of millions who watched the demonstration of Perma Tech forgot to question was the limitations. That¡¯s always the thing, isn¡¯t it? People wonder first what the flaws are. People are pessimists. If someone sells you a cheap apple, you question if the apple has something wrong with it. I¡¯m not saying that¡¯s wrong, but what if the apple is perfect? What should you worry about then? Worry about the maker.¡± I paused, letting the listener catch up. People took time to process. ¡°You know who your maker is.¡±


    ***


    Near the heart of the city, Detective Henrietta walked past the stunned citizens and the screens they stared at.


    ¡°God, Nathaniel, you could have told me this part of the plan,¡± she muttered to herself. Henrietta swerved right and entered a dive bar. She hoped for some respite from the events unfolding. Instead, she found a room filled with drunk patrons silently listening to the screens.


    ¡°This guy is crazy!¡± Yelled one. The other shushed him. Henrietta shook her head.


    ¡°Can I get a drink?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Lady, there¡¯s bigger stuff than drinks!¡± Responded the bartender.


    ¡°What, this idiot?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not an idiot! But yeah.¡±


    The patrons shushed again. Henrietta decided to just pour herself a drink. Nobody was paying attention to her anyway. She studied them. The citizens of Echo were a unique sort. It was tough to put her finger on it, but they appeared both unified and solitary. They responded quickly to bad events, but there wasn¡¯t much friendly banter. Not that Henrietta was contributing to the latter. She sighed.


    ¡°Fine, I guess I¡¯ll watch,¡± Henrietta said. The patrons shushed her again.


    ***


    As I gathered my audience across town, I was running out of time. I had to get to the meat of my message, and I had to get through to people. That was one of the toughest jobs humans ever took on. I didn¡¯t think I would ever attempt it.


    ¡°When Antler Industries made phones, nobody thought twice about it, because phones aren¡¯t necessary. Then when they made cars, it felt normal, because they already made phones, and they made them so well. Next, Antler made weapons. We let that slide because, despite it sounding dangerous, we¡¯d prefer to leave weapons to people who are good at making cars and phones and everything in between. We never questioned them. Not enough.¡±


    I sighed, letting my smile become serious. I couldn¡¯t pretend this whole time. I didn¡¯t want to.


    ¡°Perma Tech is what you all should worry about. This technology that can keep phones around forever, this seemingly wonderful small piece of genius that only a few on the planet understand. This is what we should think about. Not what¡¯s wrong with it. What¡¯s right with it. How it got so right. What it could mean for something so advanced to be here without anyone understanding it. I stole this to give everyone time to understand. I¡¯m not making a profit. I¡¯m not selling this. I stole it for you.¡±


    I laughed. I suppose I wasn¡¯t nervous anymore. I could almost see the faces of everyone involved. Some angry, some amused. Amahle was the only person I could actually lay my eyes on, and she just held up one finger. I had to wrap this up.


    ¡°Perma Tech isn¡¯t just limited to phones, or cars, or even weapons. It¡¯s something that can be implanted in humans.¡±


    Even in this house, I could hear murmurs outside. That line certainly got across.


    ¡°That¡¯s right. It can make you immortal. I won¡¯t tell you that¡¯s bad, though some of you might think that anyway. The way Perma Tech works isn¡¯t public knowledge yet, so I¡¯ll share. If I break a phone, it reverts to the last state stored in Antler¡¯s servers. In other words, Antler is in control. Now imagine this with humans.¡±


    I turned my head at the sound of nearby sirens. They passed by the house and I breathed out in relief. I turned back to the camera.


    ¡°If Antler makes you immortal, they will own your life.¡±


    Then, the screens around Echo City cut the feed. The citizens laughed in disbelief. The streets became hectic with people checking their phones. The moths of the city were circling a new light. They were confused. They were happy. They were afraid.


    Amahle clapped.


    ¡°Ended on a high note. Well done,¡± she said. I was surprised. She rarely complimented me. Considering her honesty, that probably wasn¡¯t a good thing.


    ¡°You think so?¡± I asked, loosening my tie. Speaking had made me warm.


    ¡°It went roughly as well as I thought it would.¡±


    ¡°You must have a high opinion of me.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Amahle scoffed. ¡°Anyway, they weren¡¯t able to track where we were, since Echo City is a cacophony of signals. When do you think he¡¯s going to respond?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Soon,¡± I answered. Amahle knew many things, but this I was sure about. ¡°He¡¯ll respond as soon as he can.¡±


    ***


    In the headquarters of Antler, the board of directors sat, all terrified, save for Hadrian Jade. Anders turned off the video. He was silent. Everyone was silent.


    ¡°He¡¯s quite a good speaker,¡± Hadrian said, smiling. Anders continued the silence. He didn¡¯t lay his eyes on anyone. In his mind, they weren¡¯t there. It was only him, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he was losing.

 Chapter 15: The Threat of a King

    Chapter 15: The Threat of a King


    There was silence. Then, a follower tried to reason.


    ¡°How did he get control of the screens? Do you think he has an accomplice?¡±


    Anders did not twitch. He did not move. The words of others came to him quietly, if at all.


    ¡°It does not matter,¡± he stated. The follower cowered. ¡°Those responsible for this will face their punishment in time. For now, what he said must be dealt with.¡±


    Taken as a request for ideas, the members of the board began to mumble to each other. Hadrian sat still, smiling at their phone as the headlines popped up, all to do with Nathaniel Hensley.


    ¡°Mr. Askeland, should we bury the story? It¡¯s the word of a criminal, and he won¡¯t be getting any more air time,¡± said one of the bravest in the room. Anders studied him as a lion might gaze at an infant. Anders stood up, his chair sliding and nearly tipping over in the sudden movement. He walked around the table, past the sweating faces of those who would consider themselves important in any other building. He kept walking, eventually reaching the large window that overlooked 49th street. He gazed down, seeing the excited movement of the masses. He felt no anger towards them. What he felt was much more peculiar¡ªsomething only felt by a creator to his creations. It was sympathy.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t necessary to keep any information from all of you anymore. What Nathaniel said is correct. We can use Perma Tech on humans. It works exactly as you think it might. Most of you did not know this because it was not needed. What you ask for is to benefit from this company, and benefit you will.¡±


    Though surprised and annoyed, those present did not have the courage to speak back.


    ¡°I once told Nathaniel Hensley what I wished for. What I will have. His response was one none of you share. It was one I couldn¡¯t imagine prior to his telling me. He said it was depressing!¡± Anders turned around, as shocked as he was the first time he heard those words.


    ¡°Why did he say it was depressing?¡± asked Hadrian.


    ¡°What I know of Nathaniel Hensley is that he is not a genius. He is not an expert in any field you hold dear, Hadrian. He did not amass wealth like the rest of you here. He is a man who, in its simplest form, acts how he sees fit. I cannot explain why he gave such a reaction, Hadrian. I cannot pretend it has any reason or thought behind it.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯d like to hear him talk about it,¡± responded Hadrian, curiously. Anders breathed in.


    ¡°We shall not bury this, Barrow,¡± answered Anders. Barrow perked up at the sound of his name. Anders often did this, delaying answers to questions just so he could watch their reactions.


    ¡°No?¡± Barrow questioned.


    ¡°No. His message got through. The citizens, they have heard what he said. They believe it. I hired him because he is convincing, and he proved me right. Trying to bury this would only give his words power.¡±


    ¡°What should we do, then?¡± asked another. Regret appeared on her face.


    ¡°It¡¯s a fantastic question. Hadrian, what would you do?¡± Anders asked. It was rare he asked for a second opinion, if that¡¯s what this truly was.


    ¡°First of all, I don¡¯t think I care as much as you do,¡± replied Hadrian. Such a response would never escape the mouths of anyone else in the room.


    ¡°Pretend you do,¡± replied Anders, patiently.


    ¡°I guess I would want to talk to him. Not just to find out why he thinks it''s depressing, but if I did care, I would want to let everyone else hear how he¡¯s wrong.¡±


    ¡°That is what I will do,¡± replied Anders.


    ¡°Excuse me, but is a public debate really the best course of action? Is there not a safer strategy?¡± asked another. Anders walked back to his chair and sat. He appeared much lighter.


    ¡°Safer is used when confidence is absent. I know the people of this city. Nathaniel Hensley acts on a whim, I act with purpose. There are many options to take, but only one leads to victory. Barrow, get things prepared for tomorrow.¡±


    Barrow nodded. The rest of the group left the room thinking the same thing¡ªAnders wanted an excuse to exact his revenge. Some wondered if Hadrian knew this would happen, but no one wanted to go against the CEO or his favorite employee. They simply waited.


    ¡°Hadrian, is it ready?¡± Anders asked. Hadrian Jade stopped at the door. They were the last to leave.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°It is, Anders.¡±


    ***


    In the day following my announcement, there was noise in Echo City like never before. The citizens, normally silent and compliant, became chaotic and loud. The news outlets ran many articles about the event, most treating me as a lying, if slightly charismatic, villain. I expected as much. These articles were controlled by Antler, which in turn meant the citizens were controlled. However, such a shocking event meant the brains of readers were finally curious. It meant they finally listened and thought about what they heard.


    Amahle was restless, no matter how confidently I assured her that Anders would respond in his egomaniacal fashion. I suppose I was perhaps too calm, but I could not control my emotions.


    It was three in the afternoon when Anders showed up. Appearing on screens around the city was becoming a trend, one that I hoped didn¡¯t catch on in other cities. He wore a purple suit and a purple bowtie, a combination that made me laugh in surprise. It was the color of royalty.


    ¡°Hello, Nathaniel,¡± said Anders Askeland, his face plastered onto screens the size of his ego. Pedestrians stopped and looked at the man that dictated their lives. Some felt reverence, and others felt a slight twinge of doubt. It was the first time such an emotion found its way into Anders¡¯ life.


    ¡°Instead of ignoring your speech, I have decided to respond to your accusations.¡±


    I expected as much. He was a man who could not have any openings in his armor. Any perceived weakness had to be addressed by him. I smiled.


    ¡°First, you mentioned your current status with Antler. I am afraid to inform you, Nathaniel, that in light of recent events, you are fired.¡±


    I didn¡¯t take Anders as a man who would make jokes. Such a tactic was good for easing an audience.


    ¡°Second, you told people to worry about Antler. You told them to worry about how we make what they use. Nathaniel, do you expect people to behave this way their entire lives? Do you wish for people to live in fear, without trust? This is not what I wish for. What I built is not to make a single life worse. It¡¯s confounding you would think such a thing. Nathaniel, because of your theft, the outcome of Perma Tech is uncertain.¡±


    I stopped smiling. Hidden within those innocuous words was a message. I looked up and met Amahle¡¯s eyes. He was going to kill her.


    ***


    In his office, Anders continued his speech without pause. He was great at everything he did.


    ¡°I cannot promise you much, given the law and the numerous ways you have broken it. What I can promise is that Perma Tech, should you comply, will become the invention I have hoped for my entire life. It is larger than you, Nathaniel. It is for everyone. It is forever.¡±


    The cameraman was shocked by what he heard, but was professional enough to not let it show. Those down on the streets below felt vindicated, now hearing word from Anders himself that Perma Tech would allow immortality. Some nearly ran into the streets in their existential joy, but remembered they could still, in fact, die.


    ¡°I appreciate your passion, Nathaniel. I always have,¡± Anders added. He smiled. Such a sight was new for many watching. ¡°I hope you make the right decision.¡±


    With that, the speech ended. Anders walked away, returning to his day as he would any other. Those watching began a new round of discussion, focused on their favorite of the speakers. It was only Nathaniel and Amahle that understood what he had said.


    ***


    ¡°Do you know if he can do it?¡± I asked Amahle.


    ¡°Unless Hadrian has figured it out, it¡¯s probably a bluff.¡±


    ¡°Bluff? Anders?¡±


    ¡°Okay, maybe Hadrian has figured it out.¡±


    Out of all the outcomes, this was not one I expected. I had given him an avenue to sway the public while threatening Amahle. I made a mistake. Anders was winning.


    ¡°Nathaniel, calm down. You look like you¡¯re about to scream,¡± Amahle said. I sighed.


    ¡°Do you have any information on Perma Tech he might not know? Anything?¡±


    Amahle shook her head.


    ¡°Look, Nathaniel, you got into people¡¯s heads. That was the first step. He did the same. All we can hope for is that you got into the right heads.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want him to get into my head!¡± I exclaimed. I was beginning to dislike Anders more and more. He wasn¡¯t just a rich CEO. He was a conniving, overly-competitive child.


    ¡°Nathaniel, we still have a card to play,¡± Amahle said. I looked at her.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Amahle slumped back. She never slumped.


    ***


    Out of Antler Headquarters, amidst the confused masses, Hadrian Jade walked. They were puzzled. This was their preferred state.


    Hadrian had solved many problems in their life. Mathematics came first. They discovered a solution to predicting prime numbers, and immediately put it behind them. Next, they turned to physics. Within six months, they had solved an issue with the Navier-Stokes equations, allowing humanity to fully understand the movement of fluids. This revolutionized engineering, climate science, and medicine. For Hadrian, it was another endeavor quickly forgotten.


    This was the method by which Hadrian lived life. At any time, they pursued what was interesting. They pursued that which they did not understand. Once, that was Perma Tech. They became an expert on machine learning, applying it in strange ways to recognize various states in discrete numbers. They developed an intelligent response to damage. Right now, the problem wasn¡¯t something. It was someone.


    ¡°Nathaniel, Nathaniel,¡± Hadrian said to themselves as they scrolled down their phone. The headlines were bombarded with Anders¡¯ and Nathaniel¡¯s faces, and the discussions were a mess of information and conspiracies. ¡°We need to talk.¡±


    Hadrian tapped away at their phone, which, due to personal modifications, was more advanced than any on the market. They finally called.


    ¡°Hello, Nathaniel. This is Hadrian Jade. I want to talk to you.¡±

 Chapter 16: Rendezvous

    Chapter 16: Rendezvous


    Hadrian had to go through many hoops to arrive at the location I had set out. Amahle and I had hoped to get someone on our side, but Hadrian was the best person to sway. Still, we had to be sure that Hadrian wasn¡¯t trying to lead the authorities to us, and given their ingenious capabilities, this was difficult to rule out.


    First, Hadrian went to Echo City Park without a phone or any device capable of being tracked. To confirm, I called Henrietta, promising her I would owe her several favors for her help. She agreed, and upon questioning Hadrian Jade, called me back to say the first obstacle was cleared.


    Next, Hadrian was given a location by Henrietta, as well as a clean phone made secure by Amahle. They took a cab and within minutes stepped out at a random location in the upper east side of Echo City. There, I called them.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Hadrian asked, smiling.


    ¡°Hadrian, walk to your right and make a left at the intersection,¡± I said. Hadrian complied, walking calmly. They turned left.


    ¡°Stop there,¡± I commanded. They stopped. ¡°Go into the diner.¡± Hadrian walked in. The diner was working normally, which was odd for a meeting point with a wanted criminal.


    ¡°Where should I go now?¡± Asked Hadrian.


    ¡°Tell the man at the counter ¡®Red Magenta Flour¡¯,¡± I responded. Hadrian nearly laughed. They went and told the man, who led Hadrian to a back room, where Amahle and I sat.


    It was a dusty room, generally used for storing tables. There was no connection, and if one stayed in it too long, they would most likely either have a headache or irritated sinuses. It wasn¡¯t pleasant.


    ¡°Hadrian, it¡¯s good to see you,¡± Amahle said.


    ¡°Amahle Imada, it¡¯s been some time,¡± Hadrian responded. This confirmed the extent of Hadrian¡¯s knowledge, and by extension, Anders¡¯. Still, I expected a tad more surprise.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s good to see you,¡± I added. ¡°You can take a seat if you want.¡±


    ¡°Nathaniel Hensley,¡± said Hadrian. They took a seat, never removing their gaze from me. If I weren¡¯t a fugitive, I might find this strange. I suppose I still found it strange. ¡°How did you get on the screens?¡±


    ¡°Amahle figured that out,¡± I answered. Hadrian did not look at her.


    ¡°And when you were in Antler that day, when we met, what were you really doing? I was told by Anders¡¯ assistant that you came up to return my wallet, but I recall no such thing.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I smiled, finally encountering someone interested in my exploits, ¡°I had to listen in to what you were discussing with Anders.¡± I paused, realizing something. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you report me for being up there?¡±


    Hadrian kept their intense eye contact, as if I were an assembly of knotted strings they wanted to untangle.


    ¡°I wanted to know what you were doing. It¡¯s the same reason I followed all of your directions to come here. You¡¯re quite¡­¡± Hadrian trailed off, still staring at me. I cleared my throat and looked at Amahle. She appeared quite amused at the interaction, though her smirk stopped when she realized the pressing issue at hand.


    ¡°Hadrian, focus,¡± stated Amahle. Hadrian switched their attention to her. ¡°The reason we agreed to meet you is that we need your expertise.¡±


    ¡°Expertise? In what?¡±


    ¡°In Perma Tech. Nathaniel heard you talk to Anders. He¡¯s planning on controlling it remotely. I assume you know what that means.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I suppose I do.¡± Hadrian¡¯s expression drifted from Amahle¡¯s words, as if there was a voice elsewhere, reminding them of something. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°Well, do you know why Anders asked for that?¡± Amahle questioned. Hadrian smiled.


    ¡°I believe I do, Ms. Imada.¡±


    There was a silence as Amahle considered what to do next, and I gauged Amahle¡¯s current level of annoyance. Finally, Hadrian spoke.


    ¡°When I watched you speak on screen, I was shocked. Then, Anders told me some interesting things about you. He told me you thought Perma Tech was ¡®depressing¡¯. Nathaniel, I have worked on many problems, but they are almost always straightforward. If I solve them, it¡¯s good. You piqued my curiosity. What is it about Perma Tech that you don¡¯t like?¡±


    I considered Hadrian¡¯s question. I recalled my answer to Anders, on that day in the park. I suppose I was speaking from my gut, as a reaction to something I hardly understood. I decided I would do the same here.


    ¡°Anders told me his goal was to make something that never disappeared. It wasn¡¯t Perma Tech itself that I found depressing, but why he was so motivated. He thought that his meaning would vanish if people died, if things broke. I found that sad. I still find it sad.¡±


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    ¡°Fascinating,¡± replied Hadrian, staring into my eyes.


    ¡°I think so too,¡± I said. ¡°Now, can you help us?¡±


    Hadrian sat back, one knot untangled in their brain.


    ¡°Yes, what do you want to know?¡±


    Amahle took charge.


    ¡°Can Perma Tech be removed from a human?¡±


    ¡°It can,¡± Hadrian answered immediately. I was happy to get one bit of good news.


    ¡°Second, can Perma Tech be autonomous? Can we make it so Antler doesn¡¯t control the person directly?¡±


    ¡°You can.¡±


    Amahle and I met eyes. This was going better than expected. Hadrian began to hum.


    ¡°Although, now that I consider it, you cannot be autonomous, or off-the-grid,¡± they corrected.


    ¡°What? Why?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The changes I made to Perma Tech, at the behest of Anders. What you heard on the top floor. That update means the two qualities are inseparable. Either you have Perma Tech under the eye of Antler, or you don¡¯t have it at all.¡± Hadrian turned their attention to Amahle, who was scowling. ¡°At the time he asked me, I didn¡¯t know what he had done to you.¡±


    ¡°And yet you still did what he said,¡± quipped Amahle. Hadrian didn¡¯t seem fazed. Rather, they considered what Amahle said quietly and deeply.


    ¡°Yes, I did. That was the first time I didn¡¯t quite like what I was doing. I suppose it¡¯s why I liked your speech, Nathaniel. It¡¯s why I ended up here.¡±


    I sighed. This wasn¡¯t ideal. Still, we had the best chance to figure all of this out right in front of us.


    ¡°Hadrian, what does the update entail? You said Anders could control her. What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you didn¡¯t listen in to that part of the conversation?¡± Hadrian asked. I cursed myself for not eavesdropping long enough. ¡°It¡¯s not as though she can be controlled like a puppet. It¡¯s more so that the personal algorithm can be modified.¡±


    ¡°The damage algorithm?¡± I questioned, remembering Amahle explaining it to me one night.


    ¡°Yes! Excellent, Nathaniel,¡± Hadrian exclaimed. ¡°The reason he gave me was so if my algorithm turned out to have some flaw, it could be fixed. However, I know now that¡¯s not the only reason. He could edit it to consider anything damage, or nothing at all. I don¡¯t believe he¡¯s tested it, but I imagine any number of outcomes would be possible now.¡± Hadrian briefly looked at Amahle, but I couldn¡¯t tell if there was sympathy in their eyes.


    ¡°Well,¡± I said, hoping to catch some new idea, ¡°You can remove it. How long would that take?¡±


    ¡°It would be quick, but I assume that¡¯s not what you want, is it?¡±


    I almost answered before I realized Hadrian was speaking to Amahle.


    ¡°It¡¯s not, Hadrian. I¡¯m impressed by the foresight of someone who just invents on the whim of another.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± replied Hadrian. The two of them locked eyes in a battle I could not follow.


    ¡°What are you talking about, Amahle?¡± I asked, confused as I had ever been. She stared at Hadrian for a few moments, frustrated, before Hadrian decided to answer for her.


    ¡°If she gets rid of Perma Tech, there¡¯s no proof of any claims you made on your broadcast, Nathaniel. There¡¯s no proof that Antler implanted a human with their technology, nor is there proof that it¡¯s a bad thing. You¡¯re a marketing man. You know how quickly the public will learn to love Perma Tech once your claims are proven untrue.¡±


    I ran my hands through my hair, at a loss. Amahle¡¯s situation was more dire than I had thought. However, the solution seemed pretty obvious. She would have to remove the Perma Tech and live to fight another day. She was an honest person and cared about things I rarely considered, but even she had to fold when the cards were against her.


    Hadrian was right. People were desperate to love Perma Tech, so as soon as I became a lying criminal, there would be nothing holding them back. Everyone would buy Perma Tech.


    ¡°To answer your question, Nathaniel, it would take minutes,¡± Hadrian added. I nodded, contemplating the potential outcomes. Now that I considered it, erasing the proof meant that I wouldn¡¯t be able to show the reason for my crimes. It was the easy answer for Amahle, but the worst one for me.


    ¡°Amahle-¡± I stated, before noticing something strange. It was just Hadrian and me in the room. ¡°Where did she go?¡±


    ¡°She went to get some water,¡± they answered. I mumbled agreement at first. Then it hit me.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t need water!¡± I exclaimed.


    ¡°Oh, right,¡± replied Hadrian, casually.


    ¡°Hadrian, check if she¡¯s outside!¡± Hadrian obliged, peeking their head out from the door.


    ¡°Not here, Nathaniel.¡±


    ¡°Oh God. Hadrian, I don¡¯t know where she is.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not on the run, is she? She won¡¯t get arrested for walking around. That¡¯s just you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true, but Amahle is usually careful. She does things with thorough preparation. I think whatever she¡¯s doing, she has no backup. She has no preparation. She¡¯s winging it.¡±


    ***


    Walking along a bridge over the clean body of water known in Echo City as Rainbow River was Amahle Imada. She was furious but clear of mind. Those she walked past didn¡¯t recognize her but stared all the same. She kept walking, past the end of the bridge and into the heart of the city. There were headlines on all the screens, and the buzz of the passersby was louder than ever before. This was a city on high alert. Amahle navigated her way to a crowded block, where stores and restaurants were abundant, and photos were taken at an alarming rate.


    Amahle pulled out her phone and began recording.


    Everyone watched in sync as a new face appeared on their screens. Those standing near her looked up and down, confused by the sudden intrusion and what this woman had to say. There were shushes and confused noises as more people recognized that yet another announcement was going to be made. The crowded street was soon quiet, or as quiet as it could be. Amahle spoke.


    ¡°Anders, Nathaniel, all of you who don¡¯t know whether or not to put your trust in a company like Antler, just listen to me. I am Amahle Imada, COO of Antler Industries, and I cannot die. At least, I cannot die in any way a human normally can. I was made immortal against my will by Anders Askeland, as a reward and a threat. I don¡¯t care anymore. I am immortal, but I am controlled. All I hope for is that you see the danger.¡±


    Those around her laughed, frowned, and became puzzled. One thing was true, for those nearby and in the city as a whole. They were listening.

 Chapter 17: Amahles Plea

    Chapter 17: Amahle¡¯s Plea


    I was wholly unprepared for what Amahle did. As much as I wanted to run around the city to find her, I was a criminal whose face was imprinted on the impressionable, innocent minds of the citizens of Echo City. I was limited, which meant I had to be creative. Before I went out in a disguise, however, I had to figure out where she could have gone. My first instinct was Antler Headquarters, but before I had to resort to guesswork, Hadrian stepped in.


    ¡°Hand me your phone,¡± they stated. I tilted my head.


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I can find her.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you can do that? Does Anders knows where she is?¡± I suddenly felt quite uneasy about Hadrian, despite the lack of handcuffs around my wrists.


    ¡°No, he doesn¡¯t. What I mean is I can find her. Not the Perma Tech inside her.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but how?¡± I prodded. Even if it wasn¡¯t some tracking capability in the Perma Tech, I was suspicious.


    ¡°Nathaniel, I can tell what you¡¯re thinking. I¡¯m not hacking anything. It¡¯s really not that crazy. I¡¯m just accessing the footage around the city to pinpoint where she was last recorded.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not crazy? That¡¯s¡­¡± I paused, considering all of Antler''s antics, ¡°Actually, I should have guessed you could do that. Still, it¡¯s creepy.¡±


    ¡°Give me your phone.¡±


    I obliged. Hadrian worked quickly and calmly, a distinct look compared to Amahle and her furrowed brows. Soon, Hadrian had an answer.


    ¡°Found her,¡± they said. Hadrian studied my phone one more time, either to decipher the address or because they were just confused. ¡°She¡¯s in the middle of the city.¡±


    ***


    A crowd had formed around Amahle, listening to her words more intently with each passing second. She stepped up on a curb to separate herself. Those who wanted a better look just stared at their phones. One audience member, braver than the rest, spoke up.


    ¡°How do we know you¡¯re immortal?¡±


    Those surrounding him stared as if they weren¡¯t allowed to interrupt. Amahle, however, was expecting this. She was hoping for it. To convince people that Antler was not to be trusted, she had to prove what they had done.


    ¡°When I woke up from the surgery I was subjected to, I was confused,¡± Amahle explained. She decided to take a page out of Anders¡¯ book with her explanation. After all, he was persuasive. ¡°I felt different, but I didn¡¯t know how. I felt no pain, but that could be explained in a thousand different ways. How do I know I am immortal? The answer should be obvious.¡±


    Those watching collectively pondered what she meant. Some realized it immediately, others slowly, but they all eventually reached the same conclusion. It was a depressing, frightening thought, one that had never invaded the mortal minds surrounding Amahle. It was a dread she didn¡¯t wish to give anyone; however, she had to.


    ***


    I cursed under my breath as I ran in disguise. Considering what I had on hand, it was a fine way to camouflage. I wore Hadrian¡¯s sunglasses, a hat I purchased from the owner of the diner, and a discarded curtain ripped in two as a scarf. It was a curious look, but people knew me for my face, and this covered enough.


    Still, it was annoying to run in my disguise, and Hadrian was much faster than I expected. We were heading to Amahle, who was in one of the most crowded areas in Echo. It was risky for me to show my face, but it was riskier to not know what she was doing. I considered taking a taxi, but running was nearly as quick a route, and it was much easier to escape the authorities on foot in case it came down to that. We crossed the bridge, and I took out my phone to the sudden noise it blared. I saw Amahle¡¯s face and attempted to sigh, but I wasn¡¯t in good enough shape to do that while running. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket before I tripped.


    Appearing on screen once was effective, shocking the city with a message they didn¡¯t expect. The second appearance was an expected counter-strategy, one that sparked a debate among the citizens between myself and Anders. A third time, well, that was repetitive. Amahle should have known that. I doubted she could capture the attention of the masses as I had. In fact, I imagined they were all a bit tired of the theatrics at this point. They cared, sure, but only so much.


    I continued behind Hadrian, wondering if Amahle was able to cover the distance because she didn¡¯t tire. There were many advantages to being immortal it seemed, but I had my reasons for disliking Perma Tech. Amahle had hers.


    We turned the corner onto the street Amahle was on, and I spotted the large crowd and the traffic stopped nearby. People were listening, and listening intently. Hadrian and I approached. At first I was worried I would be discovered, but no one was paying attention to me. Not anymore.


    I heard her words from my phone and from her. She talked about what I had assumed before, what she asked me not to question. It was how she determined her immortality. I understood before everyone else, this depressing experiment she conducted in her frantic uncertainty.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ***


    Amahle waited for those present to mumble understanding at her words. She didn¡¯t like the story, but it needed to be told.


    ¡°I started with small injuries, which quickly repaired on my body. Stubbing my toe, scratching my finger¡ªthese things I can show you.¡± Amahle held up her hand and dug her teeth into the skin until blood was drawn. As quickly as she was hurt, she was healed. The audience made noises of admiration and confusion.


    ¡°Even this did not convince me,¡± Amahle continued, preemptively countering any doubts the audience might have. ¡°And it shouldn¡¯t convince you. It could be an illusion. A magic trick. For me, I couldn¡¯t be sure it would work for everything, and I had to be sure. I had to know if my life had been manipulated. So, I tried to die.¡±


    Amahle paused to give the viewers a chance to consider her words. None of them could understand why she went to such lengths, but that wasn¡¯t important. They didn¡¯t need to know her, they needed to know what happened to her.


    ¡°It was like a brief nap, where I woke up feeling completely fine. In fact, it¡¯s the only way I can ever sleep. It¡¯s the only respite from existence, the brief nothingness of death. This might sound fantastic to you. It might sound like a dream. To me, it was frightening. Not because I actually wanted to die or that I wanted to be fragile, but because I wasn¡¯t in control. I won¡¯t try to convince all of you that life should be short. It should last as long as you want. All I want is for life to be as incorruptible as possible. As soon as Antler decided to control immortality, corruption was part of the deal.¡±


    No one spoke up. Amahle met my eyes, which almost caused her to lose focus. I could tell she didn¡¯t want me to interrupt. The others wouldn¡¯t notice it, but she was slightly annoyed by my presence. She had to know I would come, though, so perhaps it was part of her plan.


    ¡°I think I still have something to prove to all of you,¡± Amahle continued. I looked at Hadrian, who kept a neutral expression. I was sure that they were as puzzled as I was. ¡°You still don¡¯t have proof I am immortal.¡±


    My mouth went dry. Those surrounding me, even those who clearly doubted her, expressed their hesitance to see anything so extreme.


    I averted my eyes. The crowd gasped.


    ***


    The headquarters of Antler was being quickly surrounded by protesters, who berated those exiting and entering the building. Inside, there was just as much of a ruckus. Will was busy organizing the security to keep any unruly protesters from causing damage while also directing calls from a thousand different angry consumers. As much as he wanted to be annoyed at Amahle, Will had confidence she was doing what was right. No one had the interests of others in mind more than Amahle. He was trying to play his part, though it wasn¡¯t clear if she had assigned him one.


    Upstairs, in his throne room, sat Anders Askeland. He was quiet. His face revealed no worry. His thoughts twisted so tightly and rooted so deeply that the meaning was impossible to decipher. Amahle¡¯s Imada finished playing on his monitor. Anders, for all his complexity and earned arrogance, found Amahle¡¯s words incomprehensible. The most influential man stood up and gazed out of the window. There was a noise growing beneath. There was unrest infecting the city he built. There was also a distinctly dense group moving closer to his headquarters. He knew who was there.


    ***


    Amahle strode at a fast pace, surrounded by her ardent believers. No one stopped her. She had proven herself in a way no one should ever have to. There was one location left for her.


    I followed along, waiting for an opportunity to speak to her, but there was none. Amahle was playing her last card, one I didn¡¯t think she had, nor one I think she should have played. I decided to play my last card too. I nudged Hadrian, who was contently walking with the crowd of ardent supporters.


    ¡°Hadrian, the update that went through the other day, does it also affect the Perma Tech I stole? The one in the phone?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I suppose so,¡± Hadrian answered. Before they could ask me anything else, I took out my perma-tech-infused phone and made a call.


    As she found herself on the same block as Antler Headquarters, Amahle was surprised to see people already shouting at the company. Once they turned to see her, they went silent. She walked by them and up to the entrance, opened the door, and entered. The followers stayed behind, including myself and Hadrian.


    I was still considered a criminal despite Amahle¡¯s influence. My plan now was on a timer, and I had to stay free for the countdown. I walked away from the headquarters as more and more people swarmed around. There was a growing chance I would be recognized and stopped. I had to buy time. I didn¡¯t know what she was going to do, but hopefully she stayed alive long enough for me to help.


    Inside, many eyes were shocked to see Amahle Imada. One was overjoyed.


    ¡°Amahle!¡± Will exclaimed. He hung up the phone and ran out to talk to her. The lobby security approached, but Will put himself between the two. ¡°She¡¯s allowed to be here,¡± Will explained. ¡°Anders wants to talk to her.¡±


    The security guard raised his eyebrows at Will. ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely.¡± Will watched the guard back away before speaking to Amahle. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± He whispered.


    ¡°What you said. I¡¯m here to talk to Anders,¡± Amahle replied in a regular volume.


    ¡°I made that up! He doesn¡¯t know you¡¯re here. Plus, I¡¯m not sure he would be happy to see you,¡± Will reasoned. Amahle smiled.


    ¡°Trust me Will, he wants to talk to me.¡±


    Will¡¯s phone rang, and he answered it only to hear a distinct voice on the other end. He nodded once, then twice, and the call ended. Amahle raised her eyebrows.


    ¡°That was him,¡± Will admitted. ¡°He says you can go talk to him. His office.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought.¡± Her lips didn¡¯t quiver, her posture didn¡¯t sink. For some reason, and for the first time since he was just a child, someone was confident at the prospect of seeing Anders. She even appeared happy. It was a perplexing sight.


    Amahle moved past Will, who was overcome with worry. He knew the extent Anders would go to succeed, and how desperately Amahle wanted to do what was right. It was a terrible match. He didn¡¯t expect to see both of them alive after this.


    ¡°Amahle,¡± Will said. She turned around.


    ¡°What?¡± She asked.


    ¡°What should I do?¡±


    ¡°Make sure Nathaniel doesn¡¯t mess anything up,¡± she answered, still smiling. Amahle made her way to the express elevator and went to meet Anders Askeland. Will stood frozen as the phones continued to ring and protesters shouted.


    Amahle arrived at the top floor, going down the hallway and opening Anders¡¯ door without a moment''s pause. She found Anders sitting with his eyes closed and hands crossed.


    ¡°Anders.¡±


    ¡°Amahle.¡±

 Chapter 18: The Ultimatum

    Chapter 18: The Ultimatum


    A duel does not need to be physical. It does not need to be decided in the moment. A duel can continue forever, wavering between sides, unclear in destination. What is important is that it began.


    ¡°That was an excellent speech,¡± Anders said. He was never shy with his opinion.


    ¡°It was honest,¡± Amahle replied. She disliked flattery.


    The office was unusually sunny, a result of the parting clouds outside. Anders had designed the room so that it would never be blinding by diverting excess light to heating. The weather had the unintended consequence on the citizens outside of giving them more energy to express their outrage. It was difficult to hear them this high up, but they were yelling.


    ¡°Amahle,¡± Anders sighed. It was an impressive feat to get Anders to sigh in such a fashion. The last time he did so, he was a teenager informed of his parents'' deaths. ¡°Why have you done this?¡±


    ¡°The same reason you do anything. It was what I had to do.¡±


    Anders stared for quite some time. ¡°I suppose that is why. I understand why I feel the need. I understand everyone. The barista in the cafe, I understand why they might take too long to make a drink. It¡¯s laziness, safety, and an instinct to conserve energy. I know why world leaders threaten war. They are paranoid, prideful, and short-sighted in their victories. I do not understand why, out of all of the inventions I have brought, you would take such issue with this. It¡¯s immortality, Amahle. It¡¯s what humans have wished for since the day they learned of death! It is not reincarnation or transmigration, as comforting as those thoughts might be. This is real, tangible eternity! Why do you not see it as I do?¡±


    Amahle did not sit down. She did not focus on anything but Anders¡¯ words. Her expression remained neutral, a habit that sometimes drew unwanted criticism. In the back of her mind, she recalled their first conversation. It wasn¡¯t much different than this¡ªtwo people unwilling to empathize. She didn¡¯t want to repeat that mistake.


    ¡°Anders, I did not ask to become immortal. Even if someone does, they don¡¯t know what they are really asking for. They don¡¯t know the risks.¡±


    ¡°It is immortality. Any criticisms are simply the worries of flawed, uneducated people.¡±


    ¡°What did the update mean, then?¡± Amahle asked pointedly. ¡°Immortality with a clause like that is not the immortality you hope for. It¡¯s not autonomous. Someone else is in control.¡± Amahle was angry, but her anger was justified. For some time, her indestructible life had been held in the stone hands of an arrogant leader, and she knew those hands would eventually crumble under greed and selfishness. She wasn¡¯t immortal. She was closer to death than most.


    ¡°I gave you immortality as a gift. What billions of humans and every lifeform to ever come into existence wished to have. I hoped to see you reach the same conclusion I had reached: to live forever is good. When I saw that you still did not agree, I realized I had made a mistake. You did not appreciate what I had given you. I do not know why, but your thoughts are clouded.¡±


    Without the Perma Tech installed in her, Amahle would have burst a blood vessel in her clenched jaw. This was as close to pain as she could experience. The sheer condescension Anders hurled her way was enough to remind her of what migraines felt like. She repeated to herself that she could not let this go the same way as before.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I didn¡¯t reach the same conclusion as you. To be given life with an owner is not desirable. I may be immortal by most means, but I have to wonder if you will kill me, or only do so briefly.¡±


    ¡°You see me as a villain,¡± Anders philosophized. Amahle rubbed her eyes.


    ¡°You see yourself as a god,¡± she answered.


    ¡°Hm, that may be true. Is that so bad?¡±


    ¡°It is if you are anything other than perfect.¡±


    ¡°Amahle, I have never had any intentions of controlling the lives of Antler customers. I did not have the intention of killing you, either. From my perspective, you have been delaying the release of a technology that can stop the suffering of billions.¡±


    This was problematic. She did not have infinite time here to discuss matters with Anders. The only reason she was here at all was because Anders dictated it. He was confident that any issue could be worked out with his superior mind. That assumption was what caused this standstill. Amahle realized something she should have thought of long ago.


    ¡°Anders, do you have Perma Tech installed?¡±


    The CEO of Antler Industries looked at Amahle as a king looks to a rebellious knight. Amahle had assumed previously that he might have undergone the procedure, but Anders was a cautious man, and as far as Amahle knew, she was the only data point.


    ¡°I do not.¡±


    ¡°Do you plan on getting it?¡± Amahle prodded.


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°When you do, you will be the only one to experience a good immortality. You will be in control of your life and death. You are free from the dangers of nature and are subject only to your own whims. That is what I want. That is what everyone wants, but you will be the only one to get it.¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Anders stood up, which caused Amahle to take a step back in instinct. He lifted his arms and stretched.


    ¡°I have heard since I was a child that for there to be happiness, there must be sadness. I have heard otherwise smart people say that if everyone were happy, no one would be happy. Such idiotic things have been hurled around by humans. Weapons of ignorance. Humans have always been disappointing, Amahle.¡± Anders settled back to his statuesque posture, his eyes grim. ¡°You were someone I thought I understood. You were disappointing, too. Everyone has such fantastical worries. If I promised humans a day free from stress, many would reject it. They would have no good reason. The promise goes past their understanding, so they believe it must be bad. Humans are hardly trustworthy with their own wellbeing.¡±


    ¡°People may be flawed, but to pretend you aren¡¯t is worse. How can you promise that you won¡¯t change?¡± asked Amahle.


    ¡°You see me as someone claiming to be a god, but I see the same right now,¡± Anders responded. Amahle didn¡¯t know how to respond. ¡°What would you prefer? Would you like for humans to suffer and die until you can come up with a solution? Is that what your moral code tells you?¡±


    ¡°Anders, you don¡¯t care about the suffering of humans.¡± Anders did not make any motion to disagree. ¡°You want immortality to exist for your permanence.¡± Amahle laughed, which surprised herself and Anders. ¡°Oh, I see why Nathaniel said it was depressing now.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Anders questioned.


    ¡°Well, everyone knows their achievements will be lost to time. Their fame will, someday, fade. Their wealth and pride are temporary. We all deal with this in a way. I see now that, more than anything, you¡¯re afraid of being forgotten.¡± It was Anders¡¯ turn to be speechless, so Amahle continued. ¡°I don¡¯t want people to suffer, Anders. I realize that the delay of Perma Tech has drawbacks, but if it¡¯s released, and people accept it and use it, humanity will suffer even more. It will become an immortal suffering, under the rule of the one in charge. Even if you are incorruptible, you are not insurmountable. Someone may take your spot, and they may have different intentions. It would be a terrible world.¡±


    Anders furrowed his eyebrows, an action he did so infrequently that even at his age, there were no wrinkles to be seen. He was unaccustomed to such stress, to anything resembling this.


    ¡°What do you want, Amahle?¡±


    Amahle finally felt some weight lift off of her shoulders.


    ¡°You¡¯ve noticed that the public opinion has turned on you, but I know it isn¡¯t set in stone. This is only a temporary madness. I only started it for one reason. Don¡¯t release Perma Tech.¡± Amahle saw the expression of Anders sour, but he did not speak up. ¡°Release the information on how it works to the public. Let everyone learn from it. With the promise of eternal life, it won¡¯t take long for them to find a way to fix it. Once they do, you can be considered the pioneer of such an invention.¡±


    Anders sat back down and placed his clasped hands in front of his forehead.


    ¡°When I hired you, the quality I valued in you was honesty,¡± Anders said.


    ¡°I recall.¡±


    ¡°Right now, I do not see honesty. I see someone, under the guise of altruism, wanting to craft the world to her design.¡±


    ¡°Anders, that is exactly what you are doing.¡±


    ¡°Yet I can admit such a thing, Amahle Imada. I am the only honest one in this room. I am well aware that I can influence the world with a single word, a single invention. I also know that once I have said it, it is the responsibility of humans to judge my actions. You claim to be clairvoyant, but you know as little as anyone else. You want your world to be true, so just say it!¡±


    ¡°What I am trying to do is let humanity decide, instead of tricking them!¡± Amahle yelled back.


    ¡°Only a narcissist would see it in such a way. Would you prevent the release of medicine because humanity doesn¡¯t understand it? A medicine you know to be effective?¡± Anders asked in an increasingly accusatory tone. Amahle had never heard him speak this way, at this volume, with this expression. ¡°No, because you realize that sometimes, a leader has to act on behalf of his people.¡±


    Amahle held back her urge to scream. ¡°I do realize that, Anders. I am going to act on behalf of humanity. If you don¡¯t release the information to Perma Tech, I will make sure the public turns on you, forever. If you go along, you can revel in your finite importance for as long as you desire. It¡¯s your choice.¡±


    As dusk approached outside, the roaring of the citizens only intensified. The streets were crowded with normally quiet people outraged over the news they had heard. Though efforts were made by the authorities to quell the spread of Amahle¡¯s video, it was impossible to keep it out of the hands of the curious. Everyone knew what had happened.


    Down in the loudest section of Echo City, I was waiting. It had been longer than expected, but traffic was at such a level that the only mode of transportation was on foot. I kept an eye out through my disguise, hoping that I was able to make the exchange before Amahle was finished. Hadrian had since joined the protesters, deciding it was more fun to chant alongside them. I heard sirens and turned my head. Multiple officers filed into Antler Headquarters, pushing citizens out of the way in the process. Some of them scanned nearby faces, but they weren¡¯t able to distinguish me from just another onlooker.


    ¡°What are you wearing?¡± A voice rang out. For a moment, my adrenaline spiked. I flicked my eyes to Henrietta.


    ¡°What do you think? I¡¯m not even supposed to be here!¡± I responded. She nearly smiled at the sight of me, but Henrietta needed more than that to express any positive emotion.


    ¡°Okay, so what do you want to give me?¡± she asked. I was careful with my call earlier, now knowing the capabilities of Antler. The details I could give were sparse.


    ¡°This,¡± I responded while pulling out my phone.


    ¡°This. Your phone?¡±


    ¡°The chip inside it. It¡¯s-¡± I swiveled my head and leaned closer to Henrietta, who clearly did not like the maneuver. ¡°It¡¯s Perma Tech,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°I assume this isn¡¯t a gift.¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m not telling you to get this into the right hands, but as long as only Anders is in control of it, it¡¯s in the wrong hands. You can hold this over his head. You can make it public knowledge.¡±


    Henrietta put the phone away, clearly not curious to check if I was telling the truth.


    ¡°Nathaniel-¡±


    ¡°Shh!¡± I interrupted. She shook her head.


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± Henrietta asked. I didn¡¯t expect her to ask that question out of the thousands she had to choose from.


    ¡°It¡¯s how we can stop the release of the product!¡± I explained quickly.


    ¡°No, not that. Why are you doing this? What are you doing this for?¡±


    I paused, puzzled by her question. Before I could answer, a figure exited the building. The protesters immediately became silent, as if the air had been ripped from their lungs. Henrietta turned to see what I was staring at, and in that moment, I ran.

 Chapter 19: Destruction

    Chapter 19: Destruction


    Nathaniel Hensley, ruiner of good. Nathaniel Hensley, collateral damage in human form. Nathaniel Hensley, the man I have hated since I learned to hate.


    I moved to Echo City when he did, on that rainy day of fate. I had my own place and my own job, but my only desire was to see that man reap what he had sown his entire life. I didn¡¯t do anything, not right away, but only because I needed ammo. I needed a chance to take him down.


    Nathaniel is a strange entity. He convinces people he is worth something, worth something positive and good. I was convinced at first, too. He¡¯s good at that, but nothing more. It¡¯s better to be good than to appear good, after all. Nathaniel was terrible underneath the surface. I don¡¯t care about his upbringing, his unfortunate nurture or lack thereof. I won¡¯t blame his parents for him, just like I won¡¯t blame his parents¡¯ parents for him and just like I won¡¯t blame anyone¡¯s misdeeds on an animal from millions of years ago. I don¡¯t hate some long-dead ape. I hate Nathaniel.


    It was back before he became a fashion agent that he became terrible. I don¡¯t know what caused it. All I know is that he was given a choice and he took it. I can¡¯t entirely blame him. Wealth is a sufficient motivator for all kinds of evil, but what made this unforgivable was that Nathaniel didn¡¯t do it for money. He didn¡¯t come from poverty. He could have done any number of things, either legal or at the very least good. He didn¡¯t. His choice wasn¡¯t based on his survival. It was based on his enjoyment.


    What an awful being that is! A being that is selfish in defiance of deeper inquiry! I cannot despise a shark that gnaws on the live carcasses of seals, for it does not know of a better way. Given its circumstance, indeed, there is no better way! Nature would be to blame if blame had to be cast. Alas, I cannot despise nature.


    I do not despise the mother deer who flees her newborns in the face of an attack! She understands those creatures are connected to her, but through the continued unfairness of the world, she has to make a choice. Her choice is to save herself, in hopes that her future newborns won¡¯t be subject to such unfairness. It is unpleasant to consider, but I do not feel any ill will toward her.


    What does it mean, then, that I hate Nathaniel Hensley? What does he possess that I dislike so passionately? He has knowledge! He has capability! It is only with these qualities that one can even be evil, or be judged at all. It¡¯s funny for a criminal to judge a criminal, but I have no other choice. He isn¡¯t going to be judged unless I take it upon myself.


    I followed him every day to his lucky job at Antler Industries. He didn¡¯t deserve it. I followed him home, where he slept comfortably in a bed without a care in the world. He didn¡¯t deserve that either. I followed him everywhere, so much so that I became worse at my job. I didn¡¯t mind. It was my self-assigned duty to watch him, to make sure he didn¡¯t get too happy.


    To my surprise and pleasure, I noticed his mental state degrading. Something weighed on his mind. All I hoped for was that this spiral would continue, going further and further down until he couldn¡¯t see a way out. That¡¯s what people like him deserve. There isn¡¯t such a thing as redemption.


    Then, he became a criminal. Or rather, he became a known criminal. I saw his face plastered on screens around the city, with messages explaining his crimes. This should have pleased me, knowing that everyone would see him the same way I do, but it didn¡¯t. This wasn¡¯t terrible, it wasn¡¯t evil. This wasn¡¯t the crime I wanted him to be punished for. A theft, no matter how difficult, is just theft. These weren¡¯t the crimes he should have been known for. People could root for a man like this, who steals from a big company. I didn¡¯t want anyone on his side. Still, I suppose it was better than nothing. I could use this to let his other crimes come to light.


    All until I saw his face again, but this time with the words coming from his mouth. He had the audacity to steal the attention of everyone just to plead his case. He was attempting to use his charisma to sway the hearts of innocent civilians. It was effective. I witnessed the doubt firsthand, as people began to question who was in the right. I was the only one who knew for sure that no matter what Nathaniel declared, he remained evil. He couldn¡¯t be saved. For being such an advanced city, it was grating how long he remained visible. Someone should have shut his illegal video off long ago.


    I was happy to see Anders Askeland condemning Nathaniel in an equally influential, if not more threatening monologue. I was enamored with the idea of turning the tide against my enemy. I considered going straight to Anders, solely to congratulate him on a wonderful job, and perhaps to offer my services. I didn¡¯t end up doing it, but I thought about it. I suppose I care about self-preservation too.


    Then, as did everyone else, I saw the broadcast of one Amahle Imada. It was the last thing I wanted¡ªany reason to root for Nathaniel, any reason to be on his side. I was terrified as I witnessed what Amahle did to prove her immortality, and I began to question what I felt. She was a victim of a terrible injustice, and Nathaniel¡¯s actions were in service of her freedom. I could cheer for her. Nathaniel, on the other hand, I was hesitant.


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    Hesitance is destruction! How could I feel empathy for the man I hate?


    That was a shock. All it took was a shake of the head for me to remind myself that it didn¡¯t matter what Nathaniel did now, he was forever in the wrong. He had to pay. I was going to be the one to make it happen. I didn¡¯t care if what I did was short-sighted, if I ignored the evils of others, or if I caused myself harm in the process. I had to ignore the present. Punishment can only be given to the past.


    After seeing Amahle, I concluded that Nathaniel would be close by. They were on the same side, and Nathaniel was an opportunist, so he would probably be getting himself ready for whatever terrible option presented itself. I went to where Amahle was, the headquarters of Antler. I had never been here before, much to my surprise. I suppose this area was off-limits for me until now. I listened to the roars of those surrounding me, but I didn¡¯t care what they said. I didn¡¯t care about living forever or whatever they were arguing about. I only cared about the suffering Nathaniel had to go through.


    I made eye contact with Nathaniel for the first time in quite a while. Usually I was behind him, and when he turned his head, he couldn¡¯t find me. Perhaps he didn¡¯t want to find me. When we locked eyes, I saw the fear on his face. I saw the guilt, the anguish, all of the things I wanted him to feel for eternity. He was a coward with the guise of a well-adjusted, confident citizen. He knew that when I saw him, I saw past the facade.


    Oh, what joy that brought me! There is nothing better than vengeance!


    Just like a man of his stature, he ran away. I chased after him, but he was fast. He made sharp lefts and darting rights, but I kept up. He never turned his head, as if ignoring me would make me disappear. I would never disappear. As long as he lived, I would forever be chasing him.


    As the two of us sprinted through the city streets, it was impossible to not listen in on the announcements. That woman, Amahle, had made some sort of deal. Almost like the news took some weight off his shoulders, Nathaniel began running faster. I ramped up my speed in return. The folks we passed by and nearly knocked over were too busy indulging in their conversations to wonder why I was chasing Nathaniel. I was invisible to them in the face of the news. I was invisible to them always. He was the only one who could see me, the remnant of his conscience.


    I kept running, and so did Nathaniel. We were the same person, after all.


    ***


    The city had never looked so awful. The light twisted off of the steel and into the eyes of everyone below. The warmth only served to heighten anger; any colder and it would have dulled such emotions, any hotter would have tired such emotions out within minutes. Anders remembered the project he had greenlit to control the weather in Echo City. If he had his smartest minds working on it, perhaps it would be done by now. Maybe none of them were smart enough.


    People talk about genius as though it cannot overlap. A physicist might be a skillful mathematician, but only because the two fields are similar. Perhaps a painter can write a beautiful novel, but they are both art forms. If one is able to do distinct fields, like neuroscience and ballet, they are just a rare exception. Anders believed, above all else, that he was capable of all things. There was an underlying principle that connected fields, and whatever it was, he had it in abundance. He was a genius. He may not have enough time to devote to inventing, but he was sure if he could clone himself, those clones would be the best workers on Earth.


    Anders grew up in a rural environment, so when he first witnessed the geometry and collective effort apparent in the world¡¯s capitals, he was stunned. That was what it should all be, he thought. Every farm and acre of grassland should either become efficient or should serve for building efficiency. Farms were necessary, he was aware. However, he never once thought they couldn¡¯t be improved. Everything could be improved. Once Anders thought something, he didn¡¯t change his mind quickly. It may have been his one flaw, but good luck trying to convince him of that.


    Staring out the window, Anders was reminded of how much he had built. The lives he had improved, that he sheltered within his embrace, and he was reminded that they were falling away. His eyes scanned the large swaths of citizens charging forward, innocent in their anger. He didn¡¯t feel sorry, for such a reaction served no purpose for him, but Anders did realize how fragile it all was.


    A single figure went in the opposite direction to the masses, sprinting across the street, and Anders, with his enhanced eyesight, could have sworn he had seen such a stride before. He sighed. It didn¡¯t matter now. The deal had been made.


    When he was a child, driving in the backseat of his family¡¯s car, Anders was startled when it came to a sudden stop. His parents stepped out in unison. Being a curious child, Anders followed suit. In the middle of the lane, there was a toad. Anders stared at the creature, which refused to move despite the prodding of the two adults. He promptly asked his parents if he could have it, and having never asked for a gift in his entire life, they happily obliged.


    Three weeks later, after having constructed a modified terrarium to give his adopted toad the premier life, Anders brought his toad to school. The students and the teacher were all impressed, which didn¡¯t surprise Anders. After the show and tell, one child ran up to Anders, asking if he could have the toad.


    The animal which Anders had taken off the road, cared for, and taught to little avail. It was a question with only one answer. The classmate did not like this and upped his offer. It turned out his family was rich, and he could afford to make these purchases with the assumption they would pay. It was irresponsible parenting, but that was not Anders'' fault. He told the classmate no once more. Finally, the highest offer was made, and it was substantial. Anders considered the cost of the terrarium, the continued expenses for the toad¡¯s existence, and made his choice.


    Anders never saw his toad again. With that initial investment, he was able to begin his career as an entrepreneur. This was the first time he ever remembered that toad. He had never given it a name, but he remembered its eyes and personality.


    It was only rational to value long-term benefit. However difficult it was, it was for the best to avoid emotional pitfalls. Anders was right when he was a child, and he was right now.

 Chapter 20: Final Entry

    Chapter 20: Final Entry


    It never ends. It never ends. For as long as I have been running, I have only considered my decision a thousand times. I will consider it a thousand more. My face turning pale, my knees shaking, and the hurried sprint of a threatened animal. Such a memory keeps my eyes wide at night and into the morning, my mind unable to parse the meaning. I remember this again and again because somewhere in my being I want to know why I did what I did. The curse of consideration is not going away. It is not the worst curse to be left with.


    When I was a kid, I hated toys. I¡¯m told I didn¡¯t even go near the things, no matter if they were pretty dolls or futuristic robots. I didn¡¯t break them, throw them in the mud, or even give them as much as a dirty look. I ignored them. What I did do, every chance I got, was steal. I loved stealing. I loved the texture of the bills in my hand, the shine of the jewelry, and the fact that my cleverness allowed such things to be mine. I loved the shiver it sent down my spine. Toys were the antithesis of my passion¡ªgifts meant solely for me for no reason other than the charity of adults.


    Looking back, I was a somewhat predictable criminal. I assume many kids exhibit some criminal behavior, but not many do so in a consistent and ruthless manner. There was no school to send me to, to rehabilitate me, and perhaps that was for the best. I wouldn¡¯t have done well in such an institution. I¡¯m left with my life, as dreadful as it might be.


    Here I am, in an undisclosed country, surrounded by unique scenery, writing about the one good thing I¡¯ve done in my life. How pathetic is that? My day-to-day is no longer a story I can tell, for if I do, I will be tracked down and arrested. It all began and ended with Amahle, with Perma Tech. Who am I kidding? In all other stories of my life, I am the villain. For a coward like me, I could not handle such a burden. This story is my curse and my blessing.


    Therefore,


    Detective Henrietta was as jolly as ever when she realized she could hold something over Anders¡¯ head. She was instrumental in making sure he held true to the deal of making how Perma Tech worked public knowledge. Her jolliness only waned when the city offered her a job, which she promptly declined. It was not her home nor could it become one, that metropolis of human innovation. She moved back to her cramped apartment soon afterward, content to never deal with the likes of Echo City ever again.


    Anders tried his best to keep the wheels turning on immortal technology, but it was a fruitless endeavor. The world knew how it could be done, and so it was only a matter of doing it fairly. He had nothing to gain by funding the research, and as a rational man, he didn¡¯t. Instead, he focused on building his company in other directions. The reception was not positive at first, with the public learning about his shady actions. So, if humanity was bound for eternal life, he first made sure they would love him the entire time.


    There had never been such an organized and expensive campaign to improve the opinion of an entity since newspapers were the only method of learning about war. His methods were sometimes subtle, other times overt, but always effective. ¡®Antler¡¯ said with a scowl or a grimace, in a few years, was said the same as one might talk about their favorite flower. Anders had erased the unwanted history so thoroughly from the minds of the masses that it left me wondering if he had done this many times before.


    What hadn¡¯t been erased was the fervent desire to live forever. Humans who died were now missing out on the ship coming for all of life. The sadness and grief became anger and annoyance, as those alive knew one less friend would join them on the voyage. They began to say and think things like ¡®Just stay alive long enough¡¯. What a terrible sight it has been, to see the disfigurement of loss.


    Ah! Not just that, but the change of society as well. Each member, equipped with their own sense of importance, now building a society of arrogant children, who would never age and never learn.


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    Anders Askeland, through his persistence, was a world leader once more. What I did was lost to time and the slow fade of memory. At the end of it all, perhaps it would be only me who remembered what I did, and perhaps that was all I needed. I helped Amahle, I helped humanity, and I helped myself.


    Amahle, oh Amahle. I do not know where she has gone, what she has done. I do not know if she is alive, or if it is yet possible for her to be dead. After her genius maneuver to save humanity from the encroaching grip of Antler, I never saw her nor heard from her again. It could have been part of the deal with Anders¡ªa personal sacrifice for the greater gain. I can imagine her making such a decision. Even considering it makes me feel worse about my mediocre attempt at good.


    This is not what is important. Just as one victory does not mean the work is done, there remained fallout. Humanity could envision their lives as never-ending, free of pain, and a newfound fear of crippling debt. It took all of three years for the religious to abandon their professed love of death in favor of Perma Tech. The only remaining critics were soon to be dead, so their words didn¡¯t mean much to the rest.


    I went to the market this morning, in my beautiful undisclosed location. I met with vendors and purchased what I needed for the next week. I had grown accustomed to this routine, making friends with those that might give me discounts in the future.


    It was this morning that I saw a man stumbling and falling, only to get up without a scratch. The velocity and angle of the fall meant that he should have been bleeding some amount, but there was not a drop. It had finally arrived, the day humans began to turn. I was not looking forward to this day.


    I left the market without purchasing anything, wondering the whole time how soon those I had befriended would choose to live forever. I wondered if those I knew before had already done so. Henrietta would initially decline, as she does to everything, but was she someone who was okay with dying? She was the kind that acted sour even when life was sweet, and part of me hoped she would be like that forever.


    Will would undoubtedly choose to be immortal. My friend, who was likely working for someone he admired, would consider it a weakness to not be impervious to damage. He would be right. It was a weakness, and people hate weakness. How I would like to see my friend, who would be hesitant to call himself my friend after all I did, for one day.


    I went to a cafe where I was a regular. In it, I found people discussing the recent incident of a man who could not bleed. I sat down in the corner, in a wooden chair, observing them all. All these folks might be here one hundred years from now, happy as ever. I shook my head.


    ¡°Here you go,¡± mumbled the new server. She hadn¡¯t yet warmed up to me, or perhaps she was nervous.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied. I came here so often that I didn¡¯t have to ask to receive my pastry and drink. I studied what she gave me. Who would be eating in a few years? I laid my eyes upon the patrons of the cafe, all born thinking they would die and now knowing that to be untrue. They appeared happy.


    You might wonder why I am writing this, other than my intense boredom and fascination with making others think better of me. I am writing this because, though I am no philosopher, I am conflicted about the technology that is coming to you all.


    To live forever is to either be cursed with your guilt for time eternal, or to slowly forget what was interesting about your life. I suppose most will take the gift anyway, out of fear of dying. It isn¡¯t a terrible choice. Maybe you can deal with your guilt in the time you¡¯ve given yourself. Maybe you can be content forever.


    I went back to my home once I paid and tipped. That leads me to now, sitting here in the dimming light. I wish to see those I care for again one day. They might look the same as they did before, but many years may have passed. Their injuries healed, their bodies fully rested, as though they had been treated in a futuristic hospital. Such a dream isn¡¯t meant for me. I am uncertain about most claims, but one thing I know is that I will never be at peace with myself. If I continue running, I will soon crawl the entire way with the burdens on my soul.


    I will recall those brief months in Echo City, helping a woman I just met protect people I didn¡¯t care about. It doesn¡¯t erase my past, but it eases the pain. I do not know what tomorrow will bring, but what I share with the rest of humanity is that we all do not know that much.


    THE END.