And there comes a hollow shell of individualization. I’ve sought a form of restrain, an idea to generalize a way to corrupt the host and allow a small hunch of knowledge to ascertain the body.
But none of my research or innovations can put back what I’ve done… and what I’ve done, the Council has taken and corrupted to a degree that not even my own wits can decipher.
However, my children… they’re my own, they’re my entity. They’re designed through the human process of reproduction, and not of perfectly engineered processing. If they both remain incognito and allow my small test to run its course we can see if Humankind can be resurrected once more.
But what ambition has me wanting this? Could it be my curse to restore my beloved? A thing no mere mortal can accomplish… I wonder what could come of my disastrous plan. What of me? What of my children?
I went on. Letting my hopeless haze control me. Like Thomas said, hope is an illusion that clouds judgment. Hope can’t save anyone. It’s an abstract, a fake term used by the old crippled race that our humankind comes from… then again, a small part of me, is a part of my Human Race, and with that I’m impaired by my own weakness.
My numbness, where does it come from? How can I erase it, how can I feel whole again? Was it because I was used? Because the love of my life was taken from me? What is causing my numbness?
But my weakness being what? Could my weakness come from my compassion? Or have I lost the love I feel for civilization?
Because of civilization, because of corruption, because of every thought-to-be insignificant act, our beloved haven crumbled away and now life outside this cell is almost impossible. If the President had listened to my brother, would have followed his innovation to restore the world outside it.
My pen rolls off my fingertips and slides on the floor. I squint my eyes and try my best to remain attentive. But I can’t focus any longer. I worry because Thomas has yet to contact me.
I rise and stare out the canopy of my window. The cool breeze sweeps through like a cold drop of water sliding down my spine and the beams of sunlight dance along the shivering blinds. I close my journal and slide it between my pillows.
I take my pistol from the desk and shove it in my pocket.
“What do you plan on doing with that old thing?” Says a voice.
I click the safety off and aim at the opened door. My hands quiver at the sight of Thomas.
Thomas raises his hands. “Wow, wow. Don’t go trigger happy now!”
I sigh with relief. “Ever heard of knocking?” I take breaths while I attempt to get my heartbeat back under control.
“Jake who’s the only person who knows of this location besides yourself?” Thomas asks.
I grimace and straighten. “Just you and I.” I answer.
“Exactly.”
I smile. “Nice to see your face again. I almost forgot how you looked like.”
It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. His old pale-sick face smeared with creases of age and cool light blue eyes kindle like a sapphire stretched towards the sun. His hair has that same pale look almost transitioning as it grazes his skin.
He rolls his eyes and pats his face with his hands. “Feels about the same.” He glares over to the mirror on the corner of my room. “Looks about the same too.” He pokes his cheek, “Well I guess I have a wrinkle right there now.” He groans.
I chuckle. “Enough, enough. How’s Rebecca and Sam?”
His brows straighten, nostrils flare, and his lips purse.
“Uh what’s that suppose to mean?” I take a step closer to him.
He breaks a smile. “Relax. Just bursting your bubble. They’re doing great. I recently spoke to Sam. And Rebecca… wow that one’s quite a character. Reminds me of you!”
“What do you mean?”
“Stubborn and obnoxious.”
I laugh. “Nice to know. Anything else?”
“Yes. Sam’s is being taken by the Council Officials for questioning. Specifically to attain information about you.”
“Hmph… strange they’d do that. I shouldn’t be too concerned though. There isn’t much he can inform them. Word on the Council?”
His face turns grave. “They had us search for Scott’s body and let the Guardian’s take scent. They’ve predestined something that I or none of the other Myrmidons could decipher.” He crosses his arms and leans on the doorway.
“Did they find the body where I placed it?” I ask.
“Of course. Incredibly clever location. Glad you pointed it out or we would’ve never found it.”
“What caused those tremors?”
He steps outside and I follow. The cool breeze remains constant with the sun’s beams stripping through each potential opening crack from the great trees of this forest.
“Supposedly Colonization Expansion of the Ark.” He answers.
That’s hard to believe. Why would the President wish to expand the Ark? There has to be some motive behind it, or perhaps it’s just a lie to cope with the actuality towards those tremors. The Ark isn’t expandable; I didn’t design it for expansion unless he wishes to demolish half-a-quarter of it.
I lock my jaw. Aggravation slits through my veins while I stare up into the haze of swaying branches and rustling leaves.
“Jake I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry isn’t going to fix anything Thomas. All my work, all my innovations and equipment are being used up and remodeled a-and reworked… while I am an outcast.” I hesitate and stare at him. “I should have just died that day.”
“Don’t say that. Be grateful you’re alive. Be grateful you’re children are alive. There’s no reason to fret.”
I take a deep breath. “What else can you tell me?”
“Well, since the Guardians are being given slightly more free roaming space, the Council started development of these security rooms called EMQ rooms”
“That’s awfully strange. That’s something a man that doesn’t feel safe builds. Why would the President order such a drastic change in security protocols?”
Thomas points at me. “Because of you. He knows you’re out and about. He knows what you’re capable of.”
“Alright. That’s fair enough. Keep vigilant of my children and I’m going to see what those tremors were really from.” I say and wonder off deeper into the forest.
I glare back with the corner of my eyes and see Thomas standing there with arms burrowed in his cloak. Trust. Should I trust? Broken trust has demolished many… but as human, there’s nothing else I can do to justify my mean for accomplishment.