unprecedented strength behind it, he yanked the blade from Iguru’s mouth. Iguru panted, the shock naked on his face, and stared at Kira with a creeping sense of horror. Kira spit out the blade and bent down to place a kiss against Iguru’s temple.
“I don’t want to kill you,” Kira said.
Iguru didn’t know how to respond, as the feeling was not mutual.
“You’ve helped me so much,” Kira delicately bit the tip of his ear, “Hadian Gundari.”
Iguru froze. The name burned a pit into his body.
“How do you know that name?” he asked with a cracked voice.
“I know a lot about you, Hadian. I know you were an EIF agent; you were recruited from the Southeast Asian Time Travel Research Institute. Nine years ago, you disappeared after a classified incident, stripped of your rank, identity and pride.”
Iguru jerked, a gut reaction, as he tried to scramble away from Kira’s words, the damning words that brought his past back to life.
“But I know what happened: you fell in love and your love betrayed you. Your love stole blueprints, stole everything you worked for and cherished. He got away with it, but you took the fall. You never forgot, you never forgave.
“Why do you think I asked you to steal the ship? I had to have someone help me unravel its secrets. Who better than the officer who helped create it?”
Kira bussed him again, “You think you’ve hidden so well. You think you’ve run so far. But there is no running from the past. The only option you have is to destroy it.”
Iguru’s eyes began to water but before he could make a move, the world went blurry and then dark. The last thing he felt was the gentlest of kisses upon his lips.
Search Request
Database: Terran.Organizations.Leaders.
Search results: 11,958. Time: .045 seconds.
Top answer: Sylvan Newfall profile.
Status: declared missing, presumed dead.
Previous status: Head of Newfall Institute of Sciences and Technology.
Known for: developments in robotics and android technology.
Notable contributions: helped with the overhaul of Orion Starlines’ androids.
Notable events: fired from company due to violent outbursts, unethical and unauthorized human testing.
Family: Spouse, unknown; one brother, Soter Newfall, retired; one son, name and location unknown.
Further information unavailable.
Iguru awoke in a very familiar bedroom, the one Kira had arranged for him. He immediately took stock of his injuries, and found that despite being a bit bruised, he had largely been left alone. His weapons and utiphone were missing, but he had been deposited on the bed, unbound. Jumping off the bed, he stalked the room, searching for any possibility of escape.
The main door was locked, as expected. He tried to open the balcony doors, but they didn’t budge. Backing up, he ran at them, curling into a ball, prepared for the sharp sting of broken glass. Instead of going through, he ended up thrown back, skidding across the floor.
He swept a hand through the dresser and passed through it like it was an illusion. He pounded on the walls, but made no noise or dents. There were no vents to crawl through, no locks to pick and the windows were unbreakable. It was as if the house protected itself from violence. He was imprisoned in a simulation, a house created from a computer and controlled by one.
Kira had him trapped.
He collapsed on the floor and balled his fists in his hair. He had been so close. Ananke had almost been a reality, and then he could have gone back and fixed everything. He could have stopped Randir, could have prevented everything from their first kiss to the last betrayal. Instead of being fooled by Randir’s charming smile, he could have gone ahead and ripped out his circuit boards. He could have had his revenge. He could’ve still been Hadian Gundari, instead of outlaw on-the-run wanted-for-murder Iguru Halk. He could’ve been a good man again.
He slammed his hand into the floor and curled over it.
Snick.
Iguru froze. Slowly lifted his head. The door to his room crept open. The butler stood at the entryway, face blank. Iguru froze, aware that either his death or a chance at escape stood before him. The butler took a step back and turned down the hall, an indication to follow if Iguru ever saw one. Iguru picked himself off the floor, hackles raised. The butler led him to the staircase and began to walk down, always remaining far ahead. Perhaps he wished to stay out of the range of Iguru’s fists.
The staircase felt different this time; the walls seemed to ripple out the corner of his eye. Down, down, down they went. Usually the staircase ended in the entrance to the hangar, but that landing seemed to have disappeared, as the staircase kept spiraling into the depths of the mountain. Gradually, the hallway began to shift, the rippling becoming more visible. The wallpaper warped, as if trying to stay in place; the stair railings changed from grand and opulent to plain wood.
Finally, the stairway bottomed out and he was in another hallway. This hallway was colder, as if the climate control had petered out. Perhaps the owner didn’t care that it had. The butler stood at the end of the hallway. He lifted his hands and clapped.
Instantly, everything changed. The refined walls ceased to exist, the elegant flooring and doors vanished, and the effusive scent of vanilla disappeared. What was left, was rotting. Cement blocks and concrete slabs formed walls and floors; mold lingered in corners and cracks; the lighting was provided by pod lights attached to the ceiling, dim things covered in dust. It was as if all the overlays had been peeled away, revealing the crumbling foundation.
The butler paused, waiting for him to adjust. Iguru stared, waiting for an explanation, but the butler simply turned and continued his brisk walk. Iguru shivered and walked faster. A thick metal door inhabited the end of the hallway; it was guarded by a large latch, one that was heavier than Iguru thought he could lift by himself.
The butler performed a quick maneuver and the latch fell away. With a heavy creak, the door swung open and the butler disappeared inside. Iguru steeled himself and followed.
It was an old laboratory.
Fogged-over pod lights were strung up on the ceiling illuminating soldering machines, 3-D printers, medical imaging equipment, cracked data screens and medical reclining chairs. His shoes left slightly dusty footprints as he gradually moved farther into the laboratory. He scanned the area hesitantly, anticipating that something gruesome was lying around the corner.
He spotted a row of mannequins and, curious, he moved closer. Behind them, an entire storage area lay in disarray. Pieces of plastic limbs, rolls of wiring, and rotting molds of skins and faces were strewn about, discarded. Something hot and sick roiled in Iguru’s stomach and he lifted his eyes to the ceiling.
A soft noise made him turn around. The butler stood at the other end of the room. There was another door. Iguru shuffled towards the butler, leaving the android assembly line behind. The butler nodded, as if to offer him some of commiseration. Iguru wasn’t sure he wanted it.
They entered the next room, which was completely dark and if possible, colder than the last room. The butler flicked on a light and led him to the back where a giant freezer was stored. It hummed and creaked, as if the motors were choking on mothballs. Iguru knew without any further explanation what was in the freezer, but he was helpless to stop the butler from opening the case.
A body, vaguely preserved, falling to pieces slowly but surely, was curled up in the middle of the freezer. He still had clothes on, which were crusted in ice. He had wispy damp hair and glasses, cracked and fogged, unnecessary with today’s advancements. His eyes were screwed shut, mouth twisted and agape. Something dark was spread over his chest, staining his white coat and gloves.
“This is Kira’s father.”
Iguru stumbled away and blinked the water out of his eyes.
“Did Kira--?”
“No. But he is going to.”
The butler shut the door and at last the ghastly si
ght was hidden, though it would remain on the back of Iguru’s eyelids for weeks. Iguru coughed harshly, trying to get the acrid smell out of his throat. The butler waited, face impassive. It didn’t take long for Iguru to regain his control; he was a space pirate and sometimes death was something he saw up close. It had never been something he enjoyed witnessing, however.
“What are you saying?” Iguru asked.
“Kira is going to use Ananke. He is going to go back in time and murder his father.”
“Why would he want to do that? He’s already dead.”
“His father still haunts him. I thought I had stopped him for good, but his evil lingers past his death.”
Iguru was not so obtuse that he did not recognize the way the butler looked at him, as if applying that statement to him as well.
“You killed his father.”
The butler didn’t react to the accusation beyond a single nod. Iguru could have asked why, but instead asked: “How?”
“I was designed to care for my master. Kira’s father was my creator, but I did not think of him as my master.”
Iguru swallowed heavily, “Do you…do you care for Kira?”
The android fixed him with a stare that pointed out how obvious the answer was. Iguru glared at the floor; the tiles wavered in and out of focus. His head hurt. So did his heart. The dust shuffled as the butler took a step forwards, slow and careful.
“Can you hate many for the actions of one?”
Iguru looked up, quick and suspicious, “What?”
“Do you hate