The point of no return is growing nigh as your half-life reaches its climax. Songs and poems said everything that has to be said. What you chose will define more than you can imagine.
This...is discouraging, impossible….unbelievable. By all means I should be jumping on a place like Erin and crying from happiness. Should I? I gaze at the impossibility or rather another fact that humans like rats and roaches - always find a way to survive. Was Tartar wrong by predicting our immune system bringing our demise when contacted by the new world? I'm in a complete loss of words, just staring at her with my mouth wide open. She's a human. Just like that. A real, breathing, human with a shaved head and unimpressed face expression, staring at me.
"Surprised? Jellyfishes are not the only species with expertise in translating dead languages, let alone speaking on them"
Her words laid out in perfect english with a faint smirk leaving her face. And now she's inspecting me while I'm too busy comprehending all this. No reply from me. I got nothing to say because oh my god, it's a human! Yet she phrased that as if she isn't...Odd...The amount of questions I can spit in her direction gives me a headache! . And she simply takes an empty glass and fills it with alcohol from the shelf on my right. Moments later she breaks the silence
"I know you're shocked and have questions [She takes a pause, sipping from the glass]. Let's make one thing clear: I'm not a god, I dislike religion, my flesh won't make you immortal, I cannot turn water into vodka and I will not bear your children or be interested in any kind of intimate activities unlike the majority of the local female population. Don't give me that confused face, you have no idea how ridiculously stupid and narrow minded sealings can get, when they see me. Are we understanding each other?"
Okaay…She's been in this situation before. That's a plus 1 to the amount of questions boiling at the tip of my tongue. Yet I can't squeeze a word from myself, only nod to which she faintly smiles and finishes her drink. Think Rick, think!
"Did you bite your tongue or forgot how to talk?" Either by curiosity or teasing she's gently pushing me to talk. I lower my head and shake it
"I have...so many questions.."
"What's the definition of insanity? What's the meaning of live? Why are we here? How to dominate hell with pancakes? How many re-releases of Skyrim was there before Half Life 3? How did human managed skip multiple milenia, learn the language and do some voodoo magic makeup to look young"
"A..actually the last -uh..yeah. The last pair of questions. Just...how?"
Something sparked in her eyes, her voice peaked deeper into curiosity as she stepped closer to me.
"I don't open up my secrets on the first date to strangers."
I twist my face, processing
"...fair enough. [I take a pause to exhale and narrow down my circle of questions] Why did you kill your goons then?" It's her goons, no doubt about that. one of them called her 'boss'. But how did she manage to rise in power?
"I keep my identity a secret and willing to kill if it means to maintain that secret."
"So no one knows about the last woman on earth...[I interrupt her and giggle] You're a cruel woman. Feminist racists would be proud."
We both shame a faint chuckle over a bad political joke before she continue
"Well, not exactly the last woman on earth if I'm being honest…"
"Wonder why..."
And I wonder indeed. There's something off about that lady, something that I'm missing. Can't lay my finger on what exactly, but this whole situation with her seems very implausible without some deus ex machina type of deal. Cryostasis can explain surviving ~12 000 years, our healthcare, augmentations and implants can prolong life and adapt one to new environment...Nanomachines? Doubt they can do much aside from sustaining one's health. Damn it, Richard, think…!
She made some sounds, trying to speak but stopped half way and shook her head. Most likely trying to come up with the right words.
"Pretty sure you got other questions to ask" Why would she try to change the subject? Is she hiding something or she doesn't want me to dwell on those thoughts? I have a bad feeling about this, but I'll play long since I'm out of options anyway.
"Actually yeah. About the drinks and how did I get here…"
She faintly giggled and poured more drink into the glass then walked around the table and sat in her boss chair. Moments later she continued
"Blame your lack of awareness. Asking the hard drinks with drugs, ignoring the menu and warning? Seriously, what do you think this is, a normal bar? As for why you're here? Guards find out that you're octoling, tripping balls and mumbling something in ancient language."
I look away in shame
"I see...Btw, it may sound like a wild guess, but how did you manage to get in..uh, how do I say this - position of power? It's definitely your office, located at the top of the tower or somewhere in higher echelons, those goons called you 'boss' and I doubt a simple DJ would shoot someone like that. And there's something off about you. Can't appear in public, undercover work as a DJ in a place where people and info can be controlled, should the situation go out of control; pulling the strings from the shadows. It only leads to one logical conclusion - You're the motherfucking Big Boss of this hell hole."
She started to slowly slap with a sinister grin on her satisfied face.
"Mighty octarian mind in action. Yeah, I'm a fucking Big Boss and this is my outer heaven. How did I achieve this? It's simple, really: I've located the big nuts, crippled their operations and lured them out of their lairs. Then it was easy as the Powergirl Station - wink-wink: take out the competition, claim the power, manipulate everyone into thinking that their methods got them into this shitstorm, offer a proper solution that ultimately benefits your vision, take out the competition or bend them to your will by necessary means. Results - win-win situation for everyone: crime rate across the city and outskirts drowns, innocent people feel safer, life improves."
Bold claim which lights up the mood a bit.
"Didn't thought you're an optimist"
"An optimist is when you sizing up the situation that's bloody impossible and say: 'Yeah. Alright - I'll have a go!' Me? I'm a leader and opportunist, creating my own windows of opportunity and harnessing it, solving the problem with long-term benefits and profit for everyone. Good leader is the one who barely exists in the eyes of others, working behind the scene. When the work is done, aim fulfilled, people will say: ``we did it ourselves."
"Not gonna lie: I find this hard to believe."
"Perhaps you should drink some soda then. It'll make you see faster, or so they say in the commercials. An abandoned area gets utilized as the center of shattered crime pulling itself back together as a publicly known location. Right fish get paid, territory officially declared as 'no laws land'. Business runs without inconsistent obstacles, normals arrive here at their own will and risks. Half the risks and troubles to make a deal. And I'm the one pulling the strings, while working as a DJ...that's been my hobby for the past 50-60 years. Gangs, black market, Plaza, crime - everything leads to your truly"
"...sixty years is a half life for most people back in the day! Just how old are you, grandma in armored latex?! How much of a human is left in that heavily augmented body of yours? Can one even call you a human, or simplify it down to a typical business women, with behavior less human than a fucking robocop? Turned Plaza into a life breaking monument of everything that brought us to extinction...Unbelievable.."
"And apparently you have no ears if you fail to see the bigger picture. I did this city a service: concentrated all illegal activity in one abandoned part of the city and kept control to myself. I keep this city clean"
"By turning black eye on drugs, killings, rape, twisting innocent lives and raising younger generations with unrestricted access to things that can brake or corrupt them? A bunch of phoney justifications of your greed if you ask me!"
"Drugs and alcohol are no more addictive than food and air"
"Now you're just talking bullshit!"
"Am I now? Then, then prove me wrong and tell me, how long can one last without a meal? Without satisfying said addiction, one will feel weird, weak, start acting and thinking irrational, prioritising fulfillment of the painful urge that keeps compromising their abilities to function."
I say nothing, processing her twisted logic.
"Now if we look at so-called starvation, what do we witness? Exactly same symptoms, there for life is addiction"
"Have you ever starved? It's not getting high and drunk so hard you can't even remember your own name! You will literally die without food, water, air and rest."
To which she waved her hand, refusing to accept the obvious
"Excuses of the living."
"Or someone's logic needs a bit of manual formatting. Jesus non existing fuck me Crist, being the last of your kind really fucked you up…"
"Settle petal, angry octopus. In any case, the Internet does exist. It won't stop kids from discovering things they're not meant to see. Same with Plaza. I gave them something I haven't had myself - freedom. No fish ever force them to come here without a reason. They know the danger and consequences...yet they still came. You can blame me all you want. In the end, you all aren't worthy of the freedom you got. Want example: look in the mirror"
"Philosophical argues about free will, memes-"
"-isn't your kink, so don't give me that La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo crap. That's what you wanted to say, aren't' you..?[rude interruption with tension rising] Free will is a privilege. Religion is a leverage. Memes, Rick. The DNA of the soul. It's our legacy that shapes our will, our culture...It's what we pass on. Expose someone to anger long enough, they will learn to hate. Envy, greed, capitalism, fascism...all memes. All past along despite eradication of mankind."
I moan in frustration
"Oh, here we go again. What is human if modern ex sea life is no different from what we used to be in all meanings. Spare me the headache and tell me, how do you know my name?"
"Ever asked yourself after coming to the surface like 'What is human?' or 'What can be considered human?' What if our idea and invision of the human race as something superior, standing above food chains was nothing but a naive pet of egoism on our shoulders? ….You did. Tell me then. Tell me how it feels to come up with an answer [She waits for my reply, but I fall silent. She's right...] It's a bitter realization, isn't it? Mankind is dead. Humanity lives on. Cybernetics, augmentations and legislations of gene alteration. Transhumanism tore us apart, made us ask questions and fight in debates about humanity, decide what makes us human, how much flesh can one strip before becoming something less or more than a man. Flesh is weak, but metal is cold. Shall we strive for more or restrain science and progress? Sooner or later modern life forms will face the same questions."
I distance myself from philosophy and ask coldly, persistently
"You big brain bitch-ling, answer my fucking question!."
"I'm a dog, Rick. Sniffing out info is my specialty"
"I thought your legal middle name is 'grofit above all else'. Hell, even the death of the world didn't stop you for being a corporate smartass addicted to numbers in the wallet.."
She fell silent for a moment, looking dead serious. But then she add
"I had strings, but now I'm free. No memes, no morale, no humanity or irrelevant thoughts to cloud my decisions and steer me away from doing what's right [her mouth twists in disgust] Money, influence, power, pleasure, social status...I'm not here for material values everyone strives for."
"Power corrupts. Your inhuman beliefs and ideas, cold calculations to gain power. You're not a human, but a mad megalomaniac, that can't be taken seriously. "
She stands up and take a chair
"Eh...what are you doing?"
"What does it look like? [She put the chair in front of me and sat on it, staring at me] I'm being serious. Want me to be serious? Fine. No more masquerade."
"..."
"..."
"...?"
Her face begins to melt and deform like a plastic, changing its color to green. She tries to say something, but her voice dies out, becoming more deformed and deep, almost robotic and artificial. My face freezes in cold sweat, as my wide open eye locked on and gazing at such a disturbing process, unable to look away for I'm still bonded to the chair; piecing together questions, her behavior, words and how it all felt wrong. And as she takes the form of an octoling, it finally clicks in me. The truth I probably knew deep inside, but refused to accept in favor of a false hope of the last woman on earth. She shifts into what she's truly is - a sanitized FUCKING octoling! This explains a lot!. For fuck sake, I SHOULD'VE figure it out sooner! My entire body desperately struggles, emitting snuffed wheezing in horror from what I see…! Of course being helpless hostage AND witnessing a literal TARTAR'S DOG WITH ABILITY TO SHAPESHIFT INTO A HUMAN AND MIMIC EMOTIONS triggers my uncontrollable urge to panic, kill and scream which I'm actively resisting!
She slaps me with a hand, her voice echoing like a demand
"USELESS CREATURE, CALM DOWN!"
Surprisingly, it helps me to calm down and look at her...All tho I can't help but feel stressed.
"...He-he-heee~Oooo, isn't this FUC-cking ironic?! A popular DJ, so called last woman on earth turns out to be U.A.C.U's personal bI-i-I-i-I-ich~! Интересно а у тебя в очке живут медведи?" Dirty mocking and insults flies out of my mouth with broken, near shaking tone as I try to keep myself in check.
"I'd agree with your look of horrified realisation if I had any feedling left. I'm not Professor Saimons or some crazy pup with no reason to exist, so lower your imaginary cum shooter, your hands are still tied. I'm a wolf among dogs, Rick. A master of myself. Remember that."
There's nothing left: no emotions on her face or voice. Nothing but cold tired speech. I take a long sight
"You know my name?"
"I keep an eye on you ever since your experience in the city. Your CQ-80 was enough to figure out where you came from and get me the update on the news"
"State of the Project?"
She nods
"The Project Promised Land. Was it a good decision? The whole 'end of the world' deal seems like a well planned controversy for me. Does it deserve to be shit on creativity? Yeah, it does. Tartar created, sanitised me and ever since then I dedicated my existence to make his job a bit harder"
"All hail the vengeful vigilante, who's no better than an android" Pompous notes in my sarcastic response.
"Reality isn't rainbows and far from typical smugs greedy rats in suits running the show with their wallets. And lest be real: organic life is nothing but machines of nature, proxies with brain acting as main CPU and the transmission relay for consciousness to pull the strings"
A distant voice cracked in the intercom on the table, distracting her
"Uh, Boss. Ghost of Justice has arrived and demand meeting ahead of schedule"
Ghost of Justice? Oh, this day just keeps on getting better! What kind of clown would name himself like that..assuming its a male in the first place. Altho it might be a cover up name to stay incognito, that's the black market after all. Our precious dog of all dogs exhale with a single disappointed 'ah' and slightly lowers her head
"Speaking of greedy idiots..."
She stood up and went back to the table, slid through it and activated the intercom.
"Like it or not he will wait till I'm done with my current guest. He's in my world, not his world. And I got friends on the other side~" She literally signed the last two sentences and teleported back to me. Nothing surprises me anymore
I faintly smile with a bit of light up mood, asking
"Ghost of Justice?"
She sits back in chair
"One of my business partners, so no more questions about it. My business is out of your league to tackle."
"Enlighten me, oh miss control!" [Why do I keep using such a pompous sly tone?] Seriously tho, I'm curious to know how it does -uh - 'feel' to be sanitised."
She nodded a couple of times. Her back tentacle extends to the floor, making me stare at it nervously. It lifts up and stretches to the cabins, gently opens one of them and grabs a plastic canister from the cleaning agent with a letter on the paper: 'Facemelter' and delivers it to its master. I raise an eyebrow with obvious intention to ask 'what's this?'.
"15 flavors of heavy drugs, pure spirit and gasoline. Fatal for any mortal [she takes a long sip, probably drinking half of it then tossing it away and violently shaking up her head] I'm not any mortal. Ooooh…Take a good look at me. I've been like ever since Tartar tossed me on the sanitisation conveyor to make a new animated doll with no hearth of their own. I've been like this for over eight hundred years and I haven't aged one day. Generations grew and died before my eyes, powers rose and tumbled down one after another. I've become what many humans and sealings would have dreamed of - an immortal. The things I've seen...The things I've done…"
She takes a short pause and continue
"And yet, there hasn't been a day, an hour, minute I haven't thought about death...I can accept the fact that nothing can end me, but this idea just keeps popping UP~ [her voice spiked for a moment, her sudden move scared me a bit] God damn, can I just be fucking normal?! I took what was stolen from me: my language, my culture, my memories and a name. Of course everyone was afraid of a soulless monster speaking in a language they don't understand, but what could I do? Change my form, come up with believable names, legends and learn to act like a normal living thing. And when I need, my character dies or fades away, giving a way for a new character to take place. A perfect actor...[Sorrow in her voice…?]But the worst thing is not the shitty green look, or the jacking down the sanity, or constant absence of anything that makes you human, or being colorblind OR moral compass going SPASTICATED, or locals proving their stupidity EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. YEAR. It's that I
JUST
FEEL
NOTHINGGgggg~!"
She walked around, acting all pissed off. In an outburst of frustration she kicked the chair and was exhausted. But then the glimpse of humanity died again as she put the chair back and sat on it with a cold face. I'm impressed and confused at the same time. This changed my view on her. She's no ordinary Tartar's puppet, no Traitors Hall or whatever those insane bastards call themself. She's something else. 800 years, damn…
"So you're a mimic [I conclude my thoughts in a rather calm tone. Curious case I ended up in...] Must be pretty hard to be a fish with many faces"
"Lack of humanity and strings makes it easier especially if you travel into different places, completely change your form, come up with a new backstory, name and the kind of work you want to do [she waved her hand] I've done it all! Saving lifes on the surgery table, digging my way through hordes of salmonids with a shovel, burned villages, got crucified and burned alive as 'heretic'; ruled a kingdom, turned it into an empire, collapsed same empire, traveled around the sea and oceans to no man's lands..saw some real strange shit beyond any logic or rational explanation. I've mastered my abilities both natural and artificial, horned my skills and developed new ones. To mimic emotions and feels, to see colors in the gray reality without a thing that makes you human...The level of true mastery of acting. But enough of that, I got something to discuss"
She puts out CQ-80 and activates the map on the holo screen, placing it on the saw so I can see it. The place looks faintly familiar.
"The Ruthless peak - easternmost stronghold in the octarian Turf." I inspect the map and moments later nod in confirmation
"Yeah, the place nobody wants to go in. Desolated pit in the middle of ancient ruins [I look back at F1sh] What's about it?"
"Around a year ago I sent some spies there just in case. Reports raise a lot of suspicion: octarians were digging tunnels and building railroads towards nowhere. Area is isolated from the world: mine fields, jammers and the only way to get in and out is by the train; communications through the secure channel only, soldiers are bound to the station and can't leave without an official request from the security chief or CEO. "
"That's some seriously overcomplicated security measures..."
"Hmh. So I started digging, used my connections and a reliable whistleblower. Apparently they diverse a large amount of resources, engineers, workforce and an entire sixth army division in that stronghold. Shipments go in, empty trains go out. Details about this whole operation are highly classified."
"...Sounds fishy. Still not sure what does it have to do with me"
"To make it worse everything references it as 'Asgard', named in english not octario/octolish. The source is reliable, but I need more info to work with. And for that you gonna do a little digging for your old doggy"
"Th..? Oh no, grandma. I got nothing to do with your games!" I exclaimed in irritation.
"I'm running short on octolings with military background and [she pointed at me] you want a job as a way to escape the unsettling reality into routine you're used to. While your nameless octo counterpart has some unfinished business to attend to."
"...don't stick your tentacles into our business!"
She stands up and smirks
"Your business? You're mere fragments driven to the edge of madness, holding to the memories and each other to balance it out and stay above the pit. But by living in comfort you two seems to forget something: Madness is like gravity - all you need is a little push. Science harnessed both
She walked to the table. I quickly analyze the situation and giggle with a sick smile.
"What can you offer me for the job. Cure for madness, some kind of deus ex machina happy end?"
She turned around
"Cyanite is the only cure for madness. Happy end? You already had it, yet you came here, driven by curiosity. Be sure it won't drive you insane. Some answers are not worth it and believe me when I say it."
"Then I'm out. Find someone else to use"
"You don't want to see your old good friendly king DJ Octa-"
"D̨ON'T͡!̷ [I interrupt her with angry response, then continue to express my frustration in vocal form. Wish I count point at her or toss something right now] O̴çt͟av͟i͝o is͜ ̕t̛h͜e̷ l̴àst́ p͡érsoń ͟I ͠ẁa͡n̕t to̧ se͜e͏!́"͠
"You will. You're out of options anyway"
"...An offer I cannot refuse?"
I ask with my tone dying out. And she nodded. Fuuuck. I'm tied up, beaten, facing an immortal crime lord in control of the situation. to make it worse I'm in the heart of THE Inkopolis motherfucking Plaza and I'm an octoling. And here it comes, more thoughts and worries questions rise like mushrooms after rain. Does she know about Helena, Erin? Will she hurt them or use them as a leverage to force me to work? She could have killed me, yet she keeps me on the short leash. She wants me alive and cooperating. Fuck..fuck-fuck-fuck! Sigh, good job Rick. You really screwed yourself up into the corner. The only good decision here is to play along and improvise.
I break the silence with exhale full of defeat, asking in half tone
"...Aight. I'll be your damn puppet digging dirt. What if he refuses to talk?"
"Start with the 'Black Night'. Mere mention of it will untie his tongue."
"Excuse me, what night?"
"A little 'opsie' that led to the Great Turf War…."
"Hold on a sec, wasn't it started in the early morning by Octarian attacking like nazies in 1945?" I ask with confusion.
"That's what the history book says. In truth tho? It all started as a little prank made by an octarian prince and traveling boy. Two idiots, experimental mix of untested hypnosis music stolen from the lab, a town with speakers everywhere, prepared to play music during the splatfest night. What could possibly go wrong? Suffice to say the situation went out of control and lasted for over a day, till town ran out of power….I see it got you thinking. Spare yourself the struggle, only a selected few even know about it...Including Tartar. We both want each other defeated, he understood the consequences well enough and I needed the helping hand to clean the mess up and cover it up by a war between octarians and inklings."
"..So YOU and Machine started the Great Turf War?!" Another great revelation. I feel haggard from all that bullshit coming in my way
"As a matter of fact, yes. One massive cover up to prevent larger scale conflict. Turn octolings into a race of scapegoats and let them be hated for being tyrannical assholes. Small price to avoid the chaos around the globe."
"You lost me here. How's some hypnosis track can ignite world war?!"
"By being a weapon of genocide by pleasure and left some survivors to do the the rest. Imagine a town that drowned in sorrow and torment overnight. Streets full of dead bodies for a vast amount of reasons. People broken and traumatised beyond rehabilitation, driven to insanity after realising what they did to their loved ones, kids, elders, strangers..both alive and not so much; mourning the ones they've lost. Families broken, production stopped, infrastructure stagnated like a broken engine. I'll spare you the details."
She activated the intercom, asked for the cleaner and someone to escort me out of here. We looked at each other, I said nothing. She..
"You'll be escorted out of Plaza safely. I don't expect immediate results, but that doesn't mean you can ignore your task. When you are done, come here and contact me directly…"
I planned to finish it before July 24 and post it as my birthday gift to myself, but as you can see it didn't happen. There were a LOT of ideas and quite a lot of drafts that never made it to the end. Rick could've gone full PTSD panic attack, or violently kill DeadF1shg till Helena arrive and stop him..or find him having an honest talk with F1sh. Hell, even Helena and Agent Asshole were tossed aside, leaving only Rick and Wolf among dogs to have one. Long. Conversation.
I know certain reader know all details about 'Black Night' and just how fucked up it is. But I wonder what theories others got...
Also. 'Ghost of Justice' is a crossover/reference to the "Tranquillity of inkopolis" fanfic. Good story, interesting character and similarities with my story. If you're interested and feel bored, give it a read; search it here or on Wattpad(just in case it hasn't been posted here yet)