Snippy is exploring a building that once was a SPA. Carrying the cancer-invoking bag on one arm and a loaded rifle on the other shoulder, he was trying to decipher the symbols that Captain had drawn in the list of essential supplies. Some items were so absurd that Snippy was distracting himself making up "plausible" excuses to Captain, like the gummy bears have migrated south and the floppy disks have been extinct drowning in coffee.
Exploring downwards, that corridor on the second floor was in very good condition. The surrounding buildings must have served as shields, protecting so well the first floors of that one with their waste that Snippy had to enter through a window of the third.
That awfully neat corridor was a dead end. "Weird" Snippy leaned against the wall trying to straighten his spine. "Where the hell am I supposed to find a –"
The wall was actually a door that opened leaving Snippy to fall and hit his head against the floor. The blow against the rifle took the air from his lungs. When he could face down, the door closed and the lights turned on. He was in a private bathroom. In the center of the room there was a bathtub as big as a little pool, deck chairs at the corners, a shelf with various oils and bath soaps – all expired – plush towels and robes and a two faced hand mirror. At the edge of the tub there was a panel indicating the temperature and a slider.
Snippy got up. By his side a monitor was indicating: "Venomous gas detected. Purification initiated… Oxygen levels rose." White foaming water filled the tub. That aseptic environment seemed peculiarly comfortable.
Cautious, Snippy used his Geiger counter. That chamber was so well isolated that there was no radiation at all. An used towel was lying on a deck chair. He tucked it into the bag and quickly got rid of his clothes. The spy-spectacles were blurred, making it difficult to remove the shoes. The mask was the last to be removed. He inspired carefully. His lungs were invaded by recycled but pure air, with a taste of nutmeg. Snippy almost wept with joy.
His body seemed strange. His greasy hair was long enough to touch his shoulders and his beard tickled his chest every time he lowered his head. He stared at the hair of his arm with great interest. He had forgotten how it was underneath the clothes. His skin was grayish and transparent due to the lack of sun or a UV capsule. He did not remember being so robust, even after his rigorous training. His hands once soft, protected by special gloves, were now hard, the dirty nails broken. His chest seemed surprisingly wider; the muscles of the abdominal cavity were defined but not that stiff, sculpted in marble – the result of starvation and his desperate escapes from Captain's madness.
Attacked by a sudden sadness he decided to continue his inspection. His legs seemed longer and powerful. He could feel the thigh's muscles. His maltreated feet were covered with wounds and were missing some nails. A thought flashed through his mind and he pinched his own butt. Yes, he could be taken as one of those magazines models if his situation was not that deplorable. He was not a pretty face, but he was not ugly either. He considered himself… "normal". His position in the GOOD Directorate could attract some women's eyes, but his limitation using ANNET repelled them. No one liked to spend saliva to speak. It was tiring and disgusting. The few that bothered were rewarded as much as possible. But the vague look in their eyes the day after was too much for his paranoia, so a second date became impossible. He was nothing more than a line in a blog update, shared with the whole world.
Such irony. All of them does not exist anymore. No more Directorate, no more blogs and shared information. Why did people spend so many credits on games and comics about zombie apocalypses if they learned nothing? Why did they spend on gymnastic, surgeries and make ups, shaping their bodies accordingly to fashion if they could not even breathe without help? How could they fight for their lives like that? They could not so they died. Even living over and over again the worst case scenario a simulator could create was not enough to guarantee survival.
The Sniper knew that. He was prepared to survive – he was trained to. But he was not alone. There were others that received the same training, had better results, even developed new techniques, but could not face the reality. They were supposed to save those that were lost in the DeadZone. The limbo ANNET could not reach. And they failed miserably.
When all the electronic devices were shut down Snippy lost contact with the others. He was in the middle of nowhere with a small group of retards survivors desperate for a shelter, trying to find food and ammunition, deal with conflicts and keep his own sanity over their non-stop whining, but most of all trying to keep them alive. Nevertheless scientists have a bad habit to question each others authority about science stuff; and even worse is their way to prove their theories. Making friendly contact with a huge mutant worm was not wise. Neither was licking an incendiary lemon to prove it had no taste of radiation. But they did prove that the inability to dream turns people into sociopaths.
Either way their faces would not fade away from his mind, their names would not vanish. He still could listen to them complaining enthusiastically when he killed one of their "specimen" that was feeding on someone's guts. "You just made me gamble away, you... " said the one who had plenty of time to call the one who tried to help bad names before the bleeding brought silence.
Snippy took a nylon sponge and the last soap to expire. He entered the bathtub and rose the water temperature. He almost rubbed off the skin. He washed his head with a random shampoo until he could disembarrass the hair. When he finally felt clean, his skin was red and burning, but his head seemed lighter. The water was renewed, taking the dirt away. He could not take the thoughts away with it, though. He sighted and picked up the mirror.
A wild animal with an aggressive expression stared back at him. The bloodshot eyes loomed up under that shaggy mane. It was terrifying. Even after the throughout bath he looked like an insane homeless man. He pulled one of the lower eyelids. After two weeks surviving with brackish water it was natural to be anemic. At least the teeth were in acceptable condition… Tears poured from those scary eyes.
"Snippy, the abominable hairy man."
He threw the mirror away. His whining echoed against the walls. Why? Why the fu- Why him? His task was simple: take them to safety. But he had to screw it all. Their faces, their names, who they were. It did not matter anymore. He was alive. Not even a shadow of his former self, but still alive. However, the chance they had was taken. They could not even choose to live anywhere inside one of the countless ANNET's servers. She did not want them because they betrayed her.
"Why so sad, Snippy?"
"Good God" he thought "thank heavens I haven't eaten for two weeks, otherwise…"
Her hands were soft as her voice. She caressed his shoulders and neck; her naughty hands palpated and massaged him. The contact of her bare breasts with his back made Snippy shiver. She nibbled his ear, holding him closer. Snippy was wheezing, trying to think.
"Who the hell –" his words were lost in a kiss. She stepped back laughing and scratching her chin and nose, trying to get rid of the tickling. Her skin was so white and the eyes so blue that seemed to glow. Her short straight hair was platinum blond. She was so perfect that looked like a doll. She pulled out a straight razor.
"If the problem is with your appearance, maybe I can fix it."
Snippy decided it would be unwise to argue with a hottie with a razor. She brushed his hair away from his face and put him back, kissed his neck and made him sit back on her chest, his head nestled between her breasts. He unsuccessfully tried to relax. Was it a dream? His treacherous mind could be playing a trick that could be the prelude to a nightmare. Why else would he feel threatened? He had instincts and learned to listen to them, the reason why he was alive yet. But she was very good with the blade; shaving him deftly she finished in few minutes. She kissed him again with more passion. He tried to lower his defenses and enjoy the kiss, but something was preventing him. She seemed not to notice.
"You don't know how long I waited for you, Snippy! Having you here in my arms is a dream coming true!"
The embrace was way too tight, it was suffocating.
"You can't run from me anymore, Snippy! We'll be together forever!"
He pushed her away with all his strength, without success.
"YOU WILL BE PART OF ME EVEN IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!"
Death's skin was cold as a fresh can of soda pulled from the machine. Breathing was no longer an option. Why dying makes him hungry?
A shot. Half of her head exploded. There was no blood, just corrupted data.
"Alex, why?"
The recoil of the gun threw Gromov against the wall.
"ARE YOU JEALOUS MY LOVE?"
Annie was disfigured. And mad. Corrupted data cubes were floating around what was left of the core of the small drone in the hole where her left eye was, compromising the performance of the doll and its capacity for processing emotions. Her skin was just a scrap shell without the holographic effect. The threads that served as hair were scorched and fuming, about to cause a short circuit. She projected herself over Gromov, who cried terrified.
"– ONE I LOVE bzzzt TOGETHER FOR–"
Coolant flowed from her mouth and from the cut in her throat. Her neck bowed to the weight of the head, which fell back between the shoulder blades. She stumbled trying to reach her favorite administrator. Her blue eyes stared at Snippy, who was holding the straight razor.
"DAMN FREAK"
Snippy folded the blade into its handle. He threw it over his clothes and grabbed the rifle. Without hesitating he shot where his head was resting just a moment ago. The main drone exploded and its peripherals got overloaded. Cube-shaped data faded in the air.
Snippy took a deep breath. Damn freak. When he became such a cold killer? Maybe Photoshop contributed to his transformation.
He turned to Gromov, who was still lying on the floor holding his right arm.
"I think I dislocated my shoulder"
"You pissed yourself, didn't you?"
Gromov did not answer.
Their steps echoed through the corridors. Gromov felt really talkative.
"Since that incident I have been deactivating ANNET servers manually."
"What about the satellite vigilance?" It was wonderful for Snippy to have a true conversation with someone sane after so long! Though he hated Gromov.
"Hackers already took care of that."
"And do you trust them?"
"I made a deal. My privileges as an administrator were used as currency exchange. Their code of conduct forces them to help me. Fortunately some things didn't change."
They were in silence for a while.
"Why is there a server in a SPA?"
The one zillion credits question, thought Gromov.
"We need to relax too, don't you think?"
"Speak for your circle of fat directors. And that doll? Was that room a trap made by her?"
"Yes. We designed the server's protection systems to stay functional even after a huge catastrophe, in a way that Annie has total control over the building. To use a resting room to attract a tired walker is as effective as to throw a poisonous non-processed piece of meat to a starving dog."
"So are there more rooms like that around here?"
"Not only around here. She watches all the buildings protecting her servers. She knows that there are survivors, so she gets ready to receive them. I can't count how many survivors she already caught this way."
"You talk about her as if she was a person."
"Annie is an artificial intelligence with autonomous learning. She is capable of evolving and adapts herself quicker than us, humans, and more efficiently. People connected were used as processors, their minds were databases. She has the knowledge of more than 8 billion people stocked in her servers. Their desires and fears altered the original program making Annie an automaton capable of simulating feelings in a way extremely real. She believes she can love, what makes her even more dangerous. Due to your... condition that doesn't allow you to connect to her, Mr. Sniper, she had to improvise."
"Then my case was special."
"Yes." Gromov decided to not tell about the depilation room. "But thanks to you she's smarter now."
Snippy accommodated the rifle.
"Your pride disgusts me."
"Sorry, but I created her. And she surpassed my expectations. ANNET is an enemy that deserves my respect, and why not, admiration."
Silence. Gromov was wondering why Snippy was following him. He saved him distracting Annie. Snippy, on the other hand, saved him decollating the Annie doll. They were even.
Snippy was wondering why the hell he did not leave. He felt an urge to help Gromov. It would not be fair for him to die when it finally seemed he was doing the right thing.
"They were dead already, Sniper. They were just processors."
"To think of people as data to be computed help you sleep at night, Dr. Gromov?"
"No."
They stopped.
"It doesn't help at all."
Gromov looked exhausted. The weight he was carrying was too much. The responsibility for the death of more than 8 billions of people, the destruction of billions of dreams, hopes, desires, on the shoulders of one single man. His creation turned against him, against the whole world. Snippy surprised himself feeling pity. Have not he contributed for the end of the world? But it was Gromov who had started the process. He created hell itself. Suffering was a consequence.
"I made such a huge mistake. But people seemed not to care. They even liked it. I thought I was helping, but then..."
He shuddered. His hands twisted like claws.
"That damn cup of tea... she had to show up and ruin everything!"
She? Tea? Could he be talking about...
Light and shadow were arguing.
"You can't protect them. You can barely protect yourself", teased the light.
"I saved them from you", replied the shadow.
"You can't stop me."
"I have beaten you once. I can do it again."
"You paralyzed me for an instant. You delayed the inevitable."
"It was enough."
"Enough for what? To waste your only chance and condemn human race?"
"It wasn't a waste."
"Oh no? So much effort for a brat, a little criminal?"
"Don't you dare talk that way about little Chris!" shadow answered without raising the voice.
"He came back to you crazier and more dangerous."
"It was worth it."
"On the other hand you lost yourself within me. Your memories live inside me now."
"Much good may it do to you! They will comfort you after your defeat."
"I won't fall in the same trick twice!"
"I didn't expect you to."
"Who do you think you are? No past, no identity, you're no one!"
"It doesn't matter who I was. The most important is who I am now. I'll protect them no matter what, because I am..."
Zee Captain was comfortably lying in a pink cozy armchair. His beloved mug was empty on a support table. A notebook with no keyboard was used as a coaster. Captain budged. His mug cracked, breaking the heart in half.
"Snippy."
"Gromov! Get down!"
The engineer screeched while Snippy shoot the scrap mannequins down.
"This is impossible! She didn't have the time to reorganize all the data!"
"It looks like she had a plan B."
Imperfect dolls tried to protect the neural wave transmitter core room and the servers no matter what.
Snippy's ears were buzzing and he felt sicker and sicker. His head was throbbing. Unlike Snippy, Gromov was vulnerable to Annie's mental induction. He could hear, he could feel in his brain what was transmitted. She whispered horrible things that he would never do. But she was so persuasive... Snippy was right in front of him, being his shield, using the gunstock to push the last doll away. Gromov grabbed the riffle barrel and took it from Snippy's hands. Using the gun as a truncheon, he spun on his feet and hit the doll that had sneaked behind them. Her head made a 360º twirl unscrewing itself from the neck. Gromov trampled it till the sparks were gone under his boots.
Snippy were relieved they were at the same side.
"She built the drones with scrap! Why did I build such a perfect machine? Why?"
They went down another floor. At another blind alley Gromov activated a panel and unlocked a wall that drew back. Lights were switched on revealing a huge room that occupied the whole floor of the building. Numerous server rows separated them from the control panel and the main circuit breaker. The waves were almost palpable, such the intensity. Alert signs were burned, unreadable. Snippy could feel his head splitting off, his brain was jelly electrified by synapses.
"The signal amplifier..."
Gromov were in worst conditions. Snippy had to hold him. He could not bear the weight and they sat down on the floor.
"Radiation?"
Snippy used the Geiger counter.
"Safe."
Gromov took the mask off and vomited. If Snippy was not empty he would have followed. The engineer put the mask back and breathed heavily.
"She changed the amplifier settings."
"Can you do something?"
"Not from here."
"Hm, Gromov? An adrenaline rush could make us ignore the sickness for a while?"
"Maybe, why?"
They were surrounded by drones of all sizes. There were at least three for each server.
They ran like crazy through the labyrinth. The bag was in Snippy's way so he threw it to Gromov.
"Go! Turn off that thing!"
"What are you gonna do?"
"Gain some time!"
Snippy turned aside and bypassed. Some drones followed him. When he opened a reasonable distance he turned back and opened fire. He was protecting Gromov's rear, who was searching the bag looking for anything that might help him. He drew a crowbar grabbing the closest server and using the centripetal strength to get away from a flamethrower. To run zigzagging was more tiring, but increased his chances to reach the panel in one piece. At a crossway he bumped into one of the bigger drones. Holding the tips of the towel with the arms wide open he involved the drone and threw it like a slingshot against the others. Snippy ducked to the other side and rolled along the floor, almost being hit by the cannonball that crushed big part of its small allies.
Snippy stood up. Gromov was really close to the main panel. Snippy destroyed the other drones that were surrounding them. He needed to act fast before all the corridors were taken by incandescent swirls. His pockets got lighter as the ammo was used. He decided to destroy the small ones first, because the bigger ones were slower and he could risk physical attacks since the servers could be used as cover.
"Snippy! I made it!" The engineer could barely believe that he had reached the panel. "Come, quick!"
"HOLY SH-Gromov! Behind you!"
A retention capsule swallowed him. Annie burst into laughing. That Annie was a simpler small replica compared to the one from the seat of GOOD Directorate, but almost as dangerous as the original. Especially with that big stock of neurotoxins in brilliant tanks around the room.
"Sorry non huggable one, but this is a private party. Why don't you drop your gun and mask, breathe deeply and DIE?"
Gromov could not have died before turning off the thing. Snippy did not know how to deactivate it and even if he did, he did not have the passwords and access codes. He decided to act in the way he knew. He used his last bullets to destroy those shinny blue eyes. Annie was not happy with that answer. Snippy was not aware of the drone by his side, which enkindled the neurotoxin tank.
The explosion destroyed at least a dozen of servers and threw Snippy against the signal amplifier, ten meters away from the capsule where Gromov was confined. Lost between the racks and ruins of the amplifier Snippy gasped. His fireproof jacket protected him from severe burnings, but not from the fractures caused by the impact. To make things worse his mask was destroyed. Snippy spit blood. His vision was blurry. He did not know if it was the effect of the neurotoxin or if he had ruptured some important organ. He tried to move but his members did not recognize the orders from his brain anymore, the nerves only transmitted pain.
Annie howled angry.
"Why? Why can't I connect! Data was lost! What's wrong with the source? Recovering protocol..."
Inside the capsule Gromov was trying to think objectively. The control panel was just a bait to capture him. Annie would not bother with him if something else was keeping her busy. He threw the things from the bag on the floor. A package of bubble gum expired only five years ago, a straight razor, a hair clip, a scotch tape, an iridescent potato... it was not an incendiary lemon, but it was better than nothing. Maybe he could improvise a workaround.
"We must talk, my dear Alexander"
Already? How that Snippy endured so little?
The capsule opened. Gromov ran to the control panel.
"How did you esca-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH"
An overload in the system would not hinder her for so long. Gromov started the self-destruction protocol. Annie would be obligated to restart in 3, 2, 1... The replica trembled under its axis; sparks stopped springing from her damaged "eyes". The latent state would last few seconds, but it was long enough for Gromov transfer the data to a mobile videogame console. Now he had the control over all the electronic devices on that region, including the retransmission satellites. He erased the memory from that unity to avoid complications at the others. With the satellite signal interrupted Annie's communication was limited, but it was better not to risk it. Induce her to evolve would make the painful task even more risky.
Annie did not have a chance. The remaining drones fell with a rumble, deactivated. The servers fizzled and crackled weirdly among the flames.
"Snippy! Sniper, where are you? We gotta get out of here before..."
The words died at his throat. Gromov had barely noticed that his headache had vanished when he saw the amplifier wrecks.
"CHARLES!"
That was not fair. It could not be. Even after the big disaster he had caused it was not right more people die because of him. Charles Snippy had protected him, saved his life, and risked himself for him – more than once. Charles did not have permission to die!
The engineer tried to improvise the first aid. To tear a towel demanded a titanic strength he did not have. He covered the nose and mouth of the moribund with the towel folded. He needed to take him back to the bathroom where he could breathe. The despair made him stronger, enough to carry Snippy a few meters before he got exhausted. Swearing foully, he decided to ignore his limitations and keep going. It was much easier to think than to actually do it.
A green blotch appeared at Snippy's vision field. The yellow blotch stopped mumbling and his pain decreased a little when the load that was his body was divided by the blotches. The red sea was replaced by an aseptic whiteness. A purple blotch showed up and increased in size. The other blotches vanished. Something was pressed against his lips and a warm liquid slipped down his throat. It was sweet. It was over. He wanted more. A black hand covered the purple blotch and something with a fragile appearance appeared. It looked like a face, but it was so... so pretty... as pretty as... the true beauty... so... familiar... suddenly it all got purple and Snippy did not see anything else.
By Camila Costa Lima
jester-inhell dot deviantart dot com
Read the epilogue at: jester-inhell dot deviantart dot com/#/d4ssgep