Gene. Sys. by Aaron Denius (feel good books .TXT) 📗

“Get me closer to the ground.” Grant does not avert his eyes from the wall. The giant image reduces to half the size in the middle of the wall as smaller images frame it. These images give closer shots of what I saw before. I see now that among the rubble and trash are also sick and even dead people. I stifle a gasp as I witness the pain and loss.

“Take them around the city,” Grant tells the scientists.

About five other scientists place their palms on their screens in unison, and the images rise up in altitude. Manipulating their hands in different directions, the scientists fly whatever cameras they are controlling around the city.

By the screens on the wall, I can tell that whatever object they are flying has a camera pointed in four different directions, covering a complete panoramic view of the streets. As they scan the city, the images show that some people are moving in a very organized fashion. They are transporting guns and scrap metal.

Grant puts his hands on the top of his head. “This isn’t good.”

Suddenly two of the screens project something very odd. They both have dragonflies hovering in the center. I step closer to get a better look and realize that those are the cameras.

“Atom!” Grant’s voice snaps me out of my trance. I realize that I have walked right into the center of the room. Most of the scientists have turned to look at me, and Grant’s stare is somehow inflicting pain.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He storms at me and leads me out of the room by my arm. His grip will definitely leave a bruise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I try to plead my case, but I know it won’t matter. I’m definitely going to be in trouble. He looks up and down the hallway. There are two drones at one end.

“You two. Take Atom directly back to his room.” He turns his attention to me. “We will talk about this later.”

I don’t object, and I just let the drones lead me back to my room. All I want to do is lie in my bed. I shut the door behind me and lay my head on my pillow. I stare at the ceiling, my mind swirling with thoughts. The things I saw on the monitors, 80, Rene, the other Genetic Systems, the outsiders, the end of the world. I find it hard to focus on any single thing. They all have me so worked up that I don’t realize that I’ve balled up my hands into fists, and I’m digging my nails into my palms.

I shut my eyes to try to calm down, and before I know it, I’m dreaming. I’m flying above the city like the dragonfly cameras, and everywhere I look, the outsiders are being shot down by drones. I fly in for a closer look and see that every face on the drones is my face. I maneuver closer to the drones with my likeness, and I try hard to stop them from killing the outsiders, but I can’t. I’m helpless.

A knock at my door wakes me from my dream. I’m sweating, and the sudden knowledge that I am about to get yelled at by Grant doesn’t help. I rise to my feet slowly, hoping that maybe he will go away, but instead, there is another knock. I answer the door, and my fear changes to confusion when I see 80 standing in my doorframe, bandages still covering half his face.

“Hey, 80.” I step aside to let him in.

He walks in. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright.” I sit on my bed, and he remains standing.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier.” He’s uneasy. “And I wanted to thank you for saving my life.”

“Of course.” I smile. We both look at each other in silence, and then I realize that this might be my best chance to ask him the question that’s been brewing in my mind. “Why is it so hard for you to want to live?”

80’s shoulders fall. He looks back into the hallway, and I realize that he is too scared to talk here. He’s probably not allowed to talk about this, and he’s afraid someone might hear.

I grab my blanket and lead him out my door. He follows as I head to the library and climb up to the roof. I lay the blanket down and sit on it. He sits next to me. The sun is just now dropping below the horizon, so the sky is orange and red. I have always loved this time of day.

“What is this place?” he asks.

“It’s where I come to think. No one ever bothers me up here. We are safe to talk about anything.” I’m trying to make him feel comfortable.

“What is that over there?” He points to the top of the pyramid.

I smile. “That’s the Great Pyramid of Giza. The ancient Egyptians built it over five thousand years ago to honor the dead. I have always wanted to sneak out and go to it.”

“Why would anyone want to honor the dead?” He strains his eyes to get a better look.

That’s not something I’ve thought about before. “I guess it’s so that people don’t forget them. It’s a way to commemorate the accomplishments they made in their life. It gives meaning to their life.”

“It’s just life,” he says matter-of-factly.

A part of me knows he’s right. There really isn’t much to life. I remember sitting here about a week ago and taking in the size of the universe. I realized that our galaxy is nothing but a dot on the giant cosmic map and that Earth itself is nothing more than a speck in our galaxy. Whatever we do here on Earth will go unnoticed by the rest of the universe. Whatever humanity accomplishes together will never be acknowledged, especially once we destroy it. It makes me sad to know this,