Last Life
A war
I can't say that anyone's going to be alright
Yamaki anxiously lit a cigarette, breathing deeply the bitter tobacco. His hands shook, not noticeably but he could feel it. His nerves were wrecked, his face cold and slicked with sweat. His breath came in long drawn shaky gasps. His shirt was untucked under his unbuttoned jacket.
"Sir it's approaching at an amazing speed. There's nothing we can do to stop it now."
He glanced fearfully up at the two women above his head. Chivalrously they sat and, with timeless ease, played an unknown rhapsody on the keyboards. In the dim light of the monitors they were seraphs, sent by God to bend under mans will. He could see sweat glistening on their faces. Why did they still follow his orders?
"Keep the tracker locked on it, the last thing we want is to lose it."
Reika nodded distractedly above him, soundlessly confirming her loyalty. Thoughtlessly he flicked the lid of his lighter open, then closed, with a soft click, click. Why did they still follow his orders?
He removed his eyes from the somehow magnificent women above him and let them wonder to the endless wall of screens in which his fate was generated and bared to the room. About him workers ran and shouted; he failed to notice them. The gigantic monitor flashed with red and yellow and black and endless streams of data ran across his vision.
Why did they still follow his orders?
"My God, it's growing!" The distressed scream of a woman's terror barely registered in his reeling mind. He had noticed before her.
"What are you doing?" He demanded, his mind still frozen. His cigarette fell from his mouth, "For the love of God start the program!"
"But Sir, the system won't be able to take it. If we start it up now there's no knowing what'll happen!"
"Do you defy me?" He bellowed flicking the lid of the cigarette lighter urgently; desperately trying, in his mind, to comprehend the situation.
Around him sirens blared and lights flashed. He could have been drowning in the hectic environment, could have broken under the extreme pressure. Above him the women typed frantically with trained fingers; he could smell their fear and desperation. Around him workers ran, screamed, and panicked. The lighter clicked noiselessly beneath the chaos and a blank calm washed over him.
Without removing his eyes from the monitor her lit another cigarette and drew on it deeply. Somewhere in the recesses of his sub consciousness he fed on the panic. It was sensual and frightening like aphrodisiac. Deep in his sub consciousness he relished the chaos. Only in his conscious mind was he ravaged with fear and anxiety.
The command was given to start the program that would save or damn them.
Why did they still follow his orders?
The sirens died, the lights dimmed. The workers stopped in their paths and all heads turned simultaneously towards the wall of monitors. He removed the cigarette from his lips and smirked in defiance at the monitors as if God had descended from the heavens, opened his mouth wide and beckoned him to enter.
"It worked." Above him Megumi whispered in detached amazement. They both sighed noticeably, their fingers still poised over the keyboards.
He continued to flick the lid of his lighter; the soft tink of metal against metal echoed off the surrounding walls and filled the otherwise silent room. The workers still stared, entranced by their unlikely victory. Yamaki turned towards the door and took another drag from his cigarette. He didn't leave, only stared at the mocking brightness of the outside. Tension was building.
"What do we do with it now Sir?" The question touched a nerve; his heart skipped a beat and pounded loudly in his ears.
"Isolate it. I don't want this to happen again." He began to walk slowly, stiffly towards the door.
The sirens began anew.
"It's mutating! Good Lord it's growing again!"
Yamaki didn't turn. He took another drag from his cigarette and lazily flicked the cigarette lighter lid. His heart still laboured beneath his skin and he was close to hyperventilation. On the outside he betrayed the raw stress and fear he felt just beneath the layer of his skin. Layers deeper still, so deep in his mind, he fed off the madness like a parasite. Anything could push him over the ledge he teetered dangerously on into complete insanity. He was so confused.
With eyes clamped tightly shut he turned and listened to the madness. He knew what he would find if he opened his eyes: Fate, staring him in the face and mocking him with its untouchable, uncontrollable pandemonium.
He opened his eyes. The monitors showed a play, ageless as time and senseless as lunacy. It was a war, literally, between data. One army: strong and ruthless, mindless. Red. The other: weak and restrained. Green. One monitor in the top corner flickered and went dead. Their power was being drained.
"It's taking over the hard drive! The systems becoming corrupted! There's nothing we can do!"
"Reboot!" He yelled, his voice holding a note of hysteric bordering on madness.
Inside, in those deep recesses, he remained calm. He flicked the lid of the lighter urgently. The chaos grew, his hand faltered, his mind worked sluggishly. He could feel himself crumbling over the disorder occurring around and within him.
Pushing insanity aside for a moment, something occurred to him like déjà vu. Digimon. Carefully, as if pussyfooting around a sensitive subject, his mind recalled past events. Things came to him like fragments of dreams; he had seen their world in relation to this world. Something there had rotted and corrupted, that was the only solution.
The monitors all went black simultaneously; the chaos, while never leaving the workers, faded into footsteps and strained shouts. Inside he fell apart like a badly made child's toy.
"Sir, the system isn't restarting." Above him his seraph spoke, broken and emotionless, "The backup generator hasn't kicked in. We'll need to engage it manually."
He nodded once and began to whistle an old tune he never remembered hearing. He could feel their distress, before either of them had a chance to speak he whispered one word then turned to leave.
"Digimon."
The lights in the hall flickered and died. Around him darkness spread like a virus. The chaos was eating him up on the inside. He didn't know how to react. He took one last drag from his cigarette before throwing the butt on the ground and crushing it with his boot.
"What do they have to do with it?" He heard Reika call at his retreating back.
"Think," He whispered to himself, smiling wistfully, "reason, my sweet angel, what do they have to do with it?"
This is all your fault
He flinched at the thought, but it brought him a twisted tranquillity. That much, at least, he could grasp. It was the only solid foundation in his mind. Indeed, this was all his fault. And indeed it could cause a lot of damage and cost a lot of money. The adrenaline was worth it though; his life was bland and meaningless without it.
The sane part of his mind grappled for an answer to his madness. So many things were at risk, the stakes were so painfully high. He was gambling with more than just petty computer parts. This situation could indeed affect more than just this building; no doubt it could end up on a world wide scale.
This isn't a game!
In his confused madness, he shrugged the responsibility off. He could handle it. If not he could always blame it on something out of anyone's control. The guilt would eat him up on the inside, indeed it had already started. If anything, however, he knew how to ignore those parasitic emotions that gnawed at his guts. It was only second nature to him now.
Before he felt the hand on his shoulder he heard the soft pitter patter of her leather soled shoes approaching.
"What do you think you're doing?" She asked forcing him to face her. He did, there were tears in her eyes, "Don't you know what this means?" She gestured to the darkness around them.
Outside the building the streets were black as night. Car headlights flashed so far below them they turned into a sea of red and yellow fireflies. Apart from the half moon that hung dangerously in the starless sky they were the only lights.
"I know perfectly well what it means." He replied removing his shades from his face. Her burgundy eyes flashed dangerously and her lips thinned into betrayed hatred.
"Enlighten me." She hissed
He grabbed her upper arms and squeezed them tightly. She didn't flinch but more tears appeared in her eyes. He stared at her blankly for a moment before moving his mouth dangerously close to her ear and whispering:
"I thought you would have figured that out by now."
He felt her body tense, he could taste her rage. Instead of slapping him or struggling to release herself from his grasp she merely fell limp and let him wrap his arms around her.
"This is all your fault." She whispered clutching tightly on his jacket.
"Is it?" He whispered back
"How can you deny it?" She said, her voice once again strong and commanding
"Think about it Reika, is it really my fault?"
She pulled away from him. Her face was porcelain white in the yellow moonlight. Her mouth hung slightly open and her eyes were wide.
"Digimon." She said slowly, testing the word
"Exactly," He said, an insane smile pricking the corners of his lips, "Find the children."
Reika opened her mouth wider, preparing to speak. He waited patiently; scanning her eyes for insubordination, there was none. She closed her mouth tightly and nodded fiercely. Behind her Megumi nodded in the same fashion, her eyes sparkling with determination, or was it fear?
Why did they still follow his orders?
The lights returned and he squinted. Reika spun on her heel and started dramatically for the door in which Megumi stood.
"Sir," She started nervously, her gloves were off and she was rubbing the palm of her left hand with the index finger of her right, "With all do respect, Sir, what can those children do about this problem? Even if this was a digimon, they're powerless to help. Their digimon partners aren't here anymore, there's no way to retrieve them."
Yamaki stared at her, for lack of better things to do. She was right, she was painfully right. The children may have had power, but even then they wouldn't have succeeded without their digimon partners. Surprisingly his mind began to work unlike it had since the D-Reaper invasion. There were methods of retrieving them, there had to be. Their worlds were linked weren't they? Of course they were. There would surely be a way.
He began to laugh
"Megumi you underestimate me." He chuckled flicking the lighter lid frantically, "Have a bit of faith."
She stepped back slightly, surprise etched into her face. Yamaki continued laughing. She was right, they were doomed. She smiled heartily, nodded, and followed Reika into the dimly lit monitor room.
The cigarette lighter lid broke off.
Yamaki raised one hand to his face and silently, without tears, he wept for the end of humanity.
Why did they still follow his orders?