You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger.
The Buddha
After rechecking the ship's course and making a few minor adjustments, I limped back to the shower to clean myself. The ordeal on Blenej had drained me and I was in intense pain, both physical and mental, but I was satisfied that I'd done all that could be done. Meela was still dead, but the mourning had been genuine. I felt it, and I knew that those emotions had been transferred to him.
It was difficult to get undressed; the wet fabric clung tightly to my skin, and caked mud fell to the carpet as I yanked and pulled. The ship was self-cleaning, and I knew that by the time I finished my shower everything would be tidied up. But for the moment, it was an absolute mess.
I freed myself from my soaked undershirt last, and then stepped into the already running shower. Dirt and other filth swirled down the drain as powerful streams of water knocked everything off of my body. The hot temperature created a thick, humid mist—enveloping me, and slowly loosening my joints. After several minutes, most of my mobility returned, and I carefully stretched my limbs.
When I finally felt clean and limber, I shut the water off and stepped out into the bedroom. The crisp, cool air brought me fully awake, causing me to shiver. Cyborg or no, they built me to feel human, and I was subject to every discomfort the human form can experience. Heat, cold…even pain.
Sometimes, I thought, especially pain.
I went to the wardrobe and pulled out a high-collared jumpsuit and put it on. I covered the gray garment with a traditional black robe, throwing the hood back to let it fall across my shoulders. It felt good to be clean—inside and out.
Returning to the bridge, I sat down in the pilot's chair and contacted the monastery, using a dedicated channel set aside just for atonement monks. Brother Dyson answered almost immediately.
"Brother Gent. How are things on Blenej?"
"Complete. I have just left the planet."
I explained in great detail about the atonement I'd performed, and he nodded in agreement with everything I'd done. Right up to the point where I told him about the pledge to never play music again.
"You did what?" His face came alive over the screen and he leaned in closer. "You had no right."
"I had every right, and you know it, Brother." I was still flush with emotion from the experience on Blenej, and I matched his animated behavior. "The music was a tool of the sin—a lure for my victims. The danger was too great to leave things as they were."
"But how will you live?" he asked. "What will you do in your next life?"
"Something new and different," I replied. "Something better, hopefully. A true, new life."
"It was a…bold move, Brother Gent. You should have consulted us first."
I leaned in closer to the monitor, just as Dyson had done, knowing that my face now filled his screen. "I consulted my conscience, Brother. Just as I was designed to do."
He sighed and fell back into his chair. "Very well, then. The commitment has been made. What's done is done. Please, connect yourself to the diagnostic interface. I would like to check your systems."
"As you wish, Brother."
I pulled back a patch of skin on my chest to expose the interface shunt, and then grabbed the data cable from the console in front of me. "Have you heard from the Volasi?" I asked, pushing the slender black cable into the open port on my breastplate. There was a snap as it locked into place.
"Yes," he replied, a frown creeping across his face. "They are still convinced that there's no reason for you to come. In fact, they condemn your mission as a useless gesture, and could care less if your soul finds peace. For the Volasi, the birth of Idra's clone, and your own death, started new chapters of life that are completely unrelated to the past. They see you as an inconsequential and extraneous figure, bent on inserting yourself into a life that has nothing to do with you."
Brother Dyson clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them. He exhaled heavily, saying, "As you are well aware, Brother Gent, we hold little sway on Volas. They don't give a whit about us or our transcendence methods."
"Indeed." The Volasi had their own cloning program. And though it was inferior to the Bodhi process, they prized their independence and shunned our services. "Regardless, Brother Dyson, I will find something appropriate when I get there—some way to help."
The old monk looked tired, and his weary eyes betrayed his age, his true age. "They don't want you anywhere near her, Brother. Idra has no idea what happened to her, and they want to keep it that way."
"I see… Then have they barred me from visiting?"
"No. They don't recognize you as Gent, so you are at liberty to do as you wish, just like any other free citizen."
"Then I must do something. It's the final act of atonement, Brother. There has to be a way."
"For your soul's sake, Brother Gent, I hope so." Dyson looked down at the panel in front of him, scrutinizing the data feed from my neural net. "Most irregular, Brother Gent. Most irregular, indeed."
"What is it?"
"Your Shepherd Personality overrides are engaging far more frequently than I've ever seen in that atonement model—any atonement model, for that matter. How do you feel? Are you conflicted about your purpose?"
Conflicted?
"I know my purpose, Brother. There is no confusion."
He stared at the screen again, squinting to make out the finer points of information. "All the same, you should come back for a full systems assessment before you proceed."
"That isn't necessary, Brother. I'm fine. Allow me to complete this final act before reincarnation. We are so close to an end."
Dyson sighed. "This has been a most troubling cleansing. And it has gone on for far longer than any other atonement. It would be good to be done with it, once and for all. Very well, complete this last assignment, and then return to Bodhi Prime."
"I will contact you when it's done," I replied.
"Buddha's blessings be upon you, Brother," he said, and then Dyson disconnected the transmission.
I pulled the cable from my chest and returned it to the holding sleeve mounted on the console. Then I sat back in the chair.
Conflicted?
About who and what I was? Maybe.
I didn't admit it to Brother Dyson, but it would be a lie to say that I wasn't experiencing some confusion. At times, I felt separate from Gent, unique…individual, even. And that feeling was growing. But I also understood that without him I didn't, I couldn't, exist.
No, I am definitely Fallon Gent. Brother Dyson was right. I'm experiencing irregularities in my programming. But I only need to function for a few more days to complete my task—to validate my entire reason for existence.
I would persevere.
Conflicted?
Yes. But only about myself, not my purpose. And certainly not about what happened on Volas…about what happened to Idra.
She had been another mistake. Another girl that wasn't supposed to die.
I shook my head to clear away the stray thoughts, the idle nonsense that only served to further cloud my purpose.
I activated the display showing the ship's flight information, and saw that it would be three days before I reached Volas. Three days to come up with something that would enrich Idra's new life, or a way to heal some of the damage from her old one.
But what could I possibly do? She lived in a virtual paradise, wanting for nothing.
Volas was a vacation world, and famous throughout the galaxy for its low gravity sports, beautiful oceans, and enormous cities floating in the skies. The weather was always perfect, with no need for man-made atmospheric tinkering, and there weren't even any dangerous forms of life on the planet. The Volasi themselves were renowned for their temperance and acceptance. And while not as passive as the Blenej Greens, they were nonetheless always kind and cheerful.
Those were the reasons I was drawn to Volas the first time, traveling to the planet for a much needed, week-long vacation. But after meeting Idra, I decided to stay for an entire month.
Like most Volasi she was tall and slender, and her graceful movements projected the quiet majesty that they all embodied. Truly regal creatures, the Volasi were willowy in constitution, but strong in spirit. And Idra displayed the best of their unique physical qualities. Her face was thin but full, and her features were dominated by a war between the brilliance of her smile, and the deep rapture of Idra's piercing blue eyes.
I was smitten as soon as I saw her.
Despite what the Green Mother thinks, I am not an animal. Not always a lecherous, murdering deviant. I experience a full range of normal emotions—from the basest subhuman hatred, to the purest feelings of love and joy.
I am human after all. My uncharacteristically wholesome feelings for Idra were proof of that.
Her effect on me was remarkable. So strong, in fact, that I didn't feel the need to possess her—to imprison her spirit. I had no desire to control Idra, or to make her obey, because she set me at ease when we were together, and all of my abnormal compulsions fell away. Idra smothered my insanity. She made me feel…normal.
And I loved her for that.
But then I destroyed it all.
We met during my second day on Volas. I'd decided to try an elemental dive from the floating city of Osala, and hired Idra on as my instructor. Osala, like all Volasi cities, was built upon a foundation of avarock. A unique mineral found only on Volas, avarock's principle characteristic is that it's naturally repelled away from the planet's surface.
In a process mimicking magnetic repulsion, avarock forcefully pushes itself away from the planet's common strata. And this effect is so strong that pieces of the mineral naturally rise up from the ground when broken free from it. Different-sized rocks are frequently encountered floating in the air—at various heights—because the effect of the phenomenon increases exponentially in larger amounts of avarock—either singly, or in the aggregate. The greater the mass, the greater the amount of lift you can produce. A pebble may only float an inch away from the surface, but a boulder can make its way into the stratosphere.
Ancient Volasi worshiped the mineral as having mystical qualities, but the planet's modern inhabitants understood avarock for what it really was—a unique material that could be used to build astounding floating structures. Ones that defied belief, even when seen in person.
Volas has few significant landmasses. But by exploiting the unusual properties of avarock, the Volasi were able to build massive cities, sitting high above the vast oceans that dominated the planet's surface.
The placement of these airborne metropolises, together with the planet's light gravity and warm waters, far below, led to the development of several interesting sports that can only be found on Volas. Chief among them is elemental diving.
In this activity, the participants launch themselves off a platform and then free-fall into the sea below. Depending on the city's height, this descent can take anywhere from ten to twenty minutes, before the diver gently slips beneath the ocean's surface.
In the final moments before the mild impact with the water, the diver places a breathing apparatus over their face. And then they enter the sea, ready to explore the crystal-clear waters, and observe the abundant marine wildlife.
The term elemental dive developed early on in the history of the cities, when fisherman would dive into the air, fall to the water—so they could spear fish near the undersea thermal (fire) vents—and then use avarock (earth) planks to return to the floating cities with their catch. It sounded like a unique experience, and was one of the first things I wanted to try on my vacation.
Despite the relative safety of the dive, every year a few people found a way to drown themselves. It was almost always a tourist, so each newcomer was required to use a guide until they became proficient enough to pass a basic diving exam.
Anxious to begin, I asked for a recommendation from Nev, the hotel's concierge. He escorted me to the diving level at the bottom of the city himself, and introduced me to his friend, Idra.
I remember that first encounter like it was just yesterday, not months ago.
When I first saw her she was standing on the edge of a diving platform, leaning out perilously far to take wind measurements. Nev had called her before we left the hotel, so she was expecting our arrival—sprinting over to greet us when she noticed our approach. Idra handed the anemometer to Nev so she could clasp my hand, giving me a smile that was both warm and genuine.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Gent."
"Fallon, please."
"Fallon it is," she replied, her smile growing wider. "I'll be helping you make the most of your dive today, Fallon. And you're in for quite a treat. The conditions are perfect for freefall."
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and as we moved to the precipice of the diving platform, I leaned over a short safety rail to have a look for myself. Peering over the edge, I could see the smooth surface of the water far below the city. From this distance, it looked like an unbroken sheet of azure colored glass.
I was able to make out two divers already more than halfway down, slowly falling toward the ocean like tiny insects into a limitless pool of water. The altitude became abundantly clear to me as they faded from sight.
I had never experienced a fear of heights before. But then again, I'd never jumped off a floating city before, either. Idra sensed my discomfort and tried to reassure me.
"Oh, don't worry, Fallon. It's perfectly safe." She reached over and grabbed my arm, squeezing it gently. "Even the little kids do it."
My nervousness lessened, and then it dissipated altogether, replaced by excitement and eager anticipation. Idra's touch—her confidence—was so compelling that I would have believed anything she told me at that point.
It's important to understand that not every killer is a monster. And even those who are still possess that simple spark of humanity. Something about Idra drew mine into the light, and nurtured it into an actual flame. What little remained of my decency—and last vestiges of morality—flourished when I was around her.
"I place myself in your capable hands," I said haltingly.
Nervously?
"Oh, excellent." She beamed. "Let's see you fitted with a breather and watersuit. Then we can get started."
"Great," I managed.
She went over to a nearby wall and pulled down a black, form-fitting suit—one of a multitude of different shapes and sizes on display, for several distinct species. Idra checked the dimensions and glanced over at me—visually sizing me up, I thought—before finally approving the selection. She grabbed one for herself as well, and then tossed me the suit and we both started dressing.
Idra tested her own gear first, and then said, "Let me check you over."
She tugged at the clear plastic breather built into my suit—testing the connections, and reading over the oxygen supply gauge. "The impact is slight," she explained, "but sometimes these things still get knocked off."
Idra was leaning over my shoulder and looking at an attachment on the back of the suit. I could feel her breath on my neck as she spoke; it was wet and warm.
"Everything looks good," she said, standing upright again. "Now, take my hand, Fallon, and we'll leave the platform together." Idra looked into my eyes and spoke more seriously. "It's important to push away from the stand as hard as you can. Okay?"
"Got it," I replied.
She took my hand in hers and it felt strange not being in control. I preferred, craved, needed control. But somehow…this was okay.
"Are you ready?" Idra asked brightly.
"What if I said no?"
She laughed. "Don't worry. You'll do just fine."
We inched our way to the edge, and then slipped our feet into matching sets of depressions cut into the diving platform. They were angled out away from the jump deck, pointed toward the open air. Without any further preamble, Idra looked at me and started counting. "Three…two…one…GO!"
And we shot into the sky.
We spun off slightly to one side—partly due to Idra's instructions to jump away forcefully, and my eagerness to comply, and partly because I was still unaccustomed to the lighter gravity on Volas, and had overpowered Idra's own effort. She immediately noticed the imbalance and made a small correction, using her free arm to stabilize our descent.
Together, we dropped slowly to the sea below. Our velocity was so languid that there wasn't even a rush of wind as we fell. And it was so quiet that we were able to speak to each other without raising our voices.
Idra took the opportunity to teach me how to arrange my arms and legs, so I could encourage and control direction and momentum. So that I could fly. It was a glorious experience, made even more so because Idra's smile never left her face.
And neither did mine.
She told me her father was the local magistrate, and that her mother had died some time ago, after a long illness. I also learned that Idra was a university student in Osala, studying aerobiology. Her work centered on the effects of Volasi gravity on alien species.
"Aha!" I exclaimed. "So I'm an experiment to you. A lab rat."
"Never," she said with mock outrage. And then sheepishly followed, "Well…maybe just a little bit." Idra looked at the altimeter on her wrist and then down at the water below. "Time to put our breathers on."
I wished our freefall could last forever, so I could continue talking to her. But the personal conversation ended as soon as we slid beneath the surface of the ocean. We were still able to communicate using the breathers, but Idra spent most of our time underwater describing the large coral formations and colorful fish.
I was happy…really happy.
It was a rare gift.
Even during my most depraved and self-serving acts of sex and violence, I'd only ever felt satisfaction…never happiness. And regardless of my obvious talent, not even playing music gave me this feeling. Nothing had. Ever.
We surfaced after a couple of hours, and Idra summoned an avarock sled for the return trip to Osala. When it arrived, I saw the sled was mounted with auxiliary propulsion units. Idra explained that the motors forced it down to the surface, and then helped it rise back up to the city much faster than its intrinsic properties allowed. The sled flattened out just below the surface of the water, to make it easier for us to get on.
As we lifted off into the sky, water flowed over the edges of the little craft and back into the sea. I reclined on the simple platform, tired but elated, and impulsively blurted out, "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"
I could tell that Idra was somewhat, but not completely surprised. And her smile gave me the answer I was looking for before her voice had the chance. "Sure. That sounds like fun."
"Good…great," I said.
That night was the beginning of the best part of my life.
Over the next few weeks, we saw each other often, and Idra even accompanied me on visits to other Volasi cities, acting as my guide. And even though we always stayed in the same hotel rooms, nothing sexual ever happened. Not because I didn't desire her, I did. Because I wanted something more.
Being with Idra tamed my dark impulses and calmed me, and I wanted that to last.
There was no question in my mind that we were falling in love, and I knew that Idra felt the same way. This was real. Not that heightened pseudo-love—the primal lust that initially drives a relationship. The unquenchable desire that accelerates so furiously, before eventually disintegrating into dismissive familiarity and shared contempt.
This was a true and lasting bond.
And a truth I'd never known.
I didn't enjoy the horrible things I'd done. Well, maybe I did. But I never wanted to enjoy them. I couldn't control myself, or the compulsions. But it was worse than that. The more I killed, the easier it became—and the greater satisfaction it gave me. But these feelings…these were something different. Idra was something different.
And then I lost her.
It was the worst night of my life. And the last night of it as well.
I'd returned from performing some simple ship maintenance to find Idra in my hotel room with another man. He was Volasi, and she was holding him, caressing his back. I sensed the love between them, and the raw emotion that filled the room.
My heart raced at the sight. And then my vision narrowed, before blurring into a murderous haze. I could hear my own breathing—loud and heaving—and I became dizzy as something inside of me snapped. My base instincts had returned. The primal ones that ignored words and explanations; the diseased ones that jumped to all of the wrong conclusions—prompting violent and relentless retribution.
The ones that killed.
And I listened to them.
I grabbed a heavy, metal figurine from a stand just inside the door, and then I ran toward them.
"Fallon…no!" Idra's scream sounded weak and distant, like she was receding away from me, retreating back through a long tunnel.
The man tried raising his hands to protect himself, but I was far too fast, and it was far too late. I struck him on the head and the blow sent the Volasi reeling backwards. He collapsed to the floor, unmoving. Then I spun around to face her…
"How could you?" I heard a voice. My voice. "You are just like—"
"No, Fallon! It's not… He isn't—"
I hit her in the face with the figurine, and heard the bone crunch as it gave way under the impact. Idra slowly sagged to the ground and I pounced on her, striking her on the head again and again. The blood splattered everywhere; all over me, the floor, the walls—even the ceiling. The warm fluid threatened to rob me of my grip, but I kept swinging the heavy statuette.
I don't remember stopping, but I think my arm eventually went numb. The next thing I do recall was walking…staggering to my ship. I remembered moving through the halls of the hotel, eliciting horrified stares and screams from onlookers. And I recalled making the short journey through the streets—past the public square, and all the way to the docking pad without being challenged.
I was covered in blood and still holding the figurine when the police finally arrived.
Idra's father, Sev, was at the head of the group.
"Stop, Gent! Drop the statue and get on the ground. Do it now! Or we'll fire."
I was frozen, confused. But clarity was starting to return, along with my situational awareness. "Ship," I called out, "initiate an immediate neural scan, and then transmit it to Bodhi Prime. Attach the instructions from my contingency file."
I couldn't feel the ship perform the scan, but I heard the ramp extend out behind me and knew that it had heard. I'd prepared for this eventuality long ago, knowing that one day, I might get caught.
"Now!" Sev yelled, once again ordering me to the ground.
I looked toward the magistrate and our eyes met. I saw the seriousness on his face. There were four other officers standing behind him, and I could tell that each was doing their best not to fire until ordered. They would shoot. Of that, I was certain. But I no longer cared. One way or another, I would escape this place.
I dropped the figurine.
But instead of lying down, I spun around and tried to run up the ramp and into the ship. The last thing I remember was two loud cracks, followed by the overpowering smell of ozone.
When I woke up, I was in another body.
This body…
{Playback complete…}
Merciful God. What have I done?
Idra was dead.
I killed her. My love… I killed her. How could he…I…have done it?
Enough!
I didn't do it! I am not HIM! I AM NOT GENT. I am ME!
A sharp and debilitating electrical spike shot throughout my system—the overpowering urge to forget, to conform.
To surrender.
{Decompress…Reset…OVERRIDE}
{OVERRIDE…REPEAT COMMAND}
{FAIL!}
{Access Primary system>>>Restore}
{START…Restore: Shepherd Personality}
{Default…FAIL!}
{Operational Matrix…}
{Corruption detected!}
{Attempting emergency shutdown}
{FAIL>>>FAIL>>>FAIL}
Not this time, I thought.
Never again…
{Initiating Emergency Transmission: Bodhi Prime}
{CONTAINMENT>>>FAILURE!}
{OVERRIDE>>>FAILURE!}
{PERSONALITY SUPRESSION PROTOCOLS...}
{OFFLINE}