4. Reasons Why
"He wanted me to tell him things…random things, really…trivia. About our world, and us, history, politics, entertainment…" Izzy had brought a health dose of water in a tin canteen, and several bland, military-issue wafers. Sora was currently devouring one of these, speaking between ravenous bites, her strength visibly returning. She was thin to the point of emaciation, bones showing clearly beneath her skin, eyes sunken and lips pale. "He claimed humans were the epitome of logic and reason."
"Datamon though humans were logical? Just what did you tell him?" Izzy shook his head disbelievingly.
"Why did they hate each other?" Joe asked impulsively.
"Huh?" Sora looked up, wide eyes questioning.
"Etemon and Datamon. They despised each other."
"I think…Etemon and Datamon were both evil, really…as we see it, I mean. But…Datamon was a different kind of evil." She turned to Izzy, seeking words.
"Etemon was…arrogant. Obnoxious. Vain. Egomaniacal." He offered.
"Right. And Datamon was completely different. And they hated each other, just because of that…there might have been some original dispute, maybe about the dark network. It was Datamon who designed it, of course…I just don't know. He never talked about it." She took a sip of water.
"Well, if my hypothesis is correct, and Datamon did indeed clone the virus-type Digimon known as Etemon from the genetic material of Elvis Presley, then the source of this animosity seems clear enough. The pawn developed a mind of his own, gained ambition. Datamon didn't like that, tried to put him in his place. Failed. Etemon had him imprisoned." Izzy theorized. Beneath his tunic, his crest glowed faintly. "Just like Demidevimon."
"Anyway, we have our crests." Izzy held up Joe's tag, along with Tai's and Sora's. "Now all we need to do is find T.K's and rescue our Digimon."
"It's not that simple." Joe objected. "Sora's weak. She needs rest, we can't just press on."
"I'll be fine." She insisted. "Don't worry on my account."
"Besides, if we leave, we may never be able to come back. They might seal off the lab, or at any rate, discover our tunnel and block it off." Izzy added.
"It's not a matter of what we should do. I'm telling you, we can't go on."
"Listen, I'll stay here. You two go on ahead." Sora offered.
"Absolutely not. We're going back, and that's final. I'm not going risk Gomamon's life over…over…"
"Over Sora. That's what you meant to say, wasn't it? Sora's more important than Gomamon. Your fellow human." Izzy accused. Joe scowled, the younger man had hit a nerve.
The tension in the hall was tangible, the air thick with it. Somewhere, great events were transpiring, and the world held its breath, waiting. Every Gazimon in the complex was on edge, the two commanding officers being no exception. Rothstein took a labored breath, drumming his claws nervously on the tabletop.
"Your move." He gazed levelly at his opponent. Wallace leaned forward to better observe the playing field, fingering on of his pawns.
"Check." He announced, sliding it within a square of Rothstein's King. The lieutenant sneered, taking the pawn with a bishop, which, in turn, was removed by a knight. Neither face betrayed any emotion, minds working feverishly behind impassive facades.
"Hey, boss…" Wallace began, trying desperately to rebuild, maneuvering a pawn to cover his castle's advance. Gazimon, who should have been masters at chess, often had difficulty grasping the nature of the game. Wallace in particular was unable to accept that it was not, in fact, a military simulation, and that certain tactics were called for. Rothstein was moves away from winning his seventh consecutive victory. "Forgot to tell you. New prisoners this morning." Rothstein shrugged dismissively, taking Wallace's knight. The taskmaster was clearly trying to distract him. It wouldn't work.
"I'll bet." Rothstein said.
"Biyomon and a Gomamon…Demidevimon had them shipped from the palace. Marked for liquidation." There was a lengthy pause. "Just thought you should know." Wallace finished, sighing, accepting defeat.
"Checkmate." Rothstein announced. Wallace's king was pinned between a Queen and a Castle, trapped. Rothstein swept the pieces off the board. "I'll look into it. Right now, our highest priority is containing D-…" He caught himself at the last moment. "The former Director. Demidevimon would be most displeased if…" And with that, a dull fanfare sounded nearby, the sound of bleating trumpets. The double doors swung open.
"Speak of the devil…" Wallace noted, glancing up from the board.
"…And he shall appear." Rothstein finished, rising to greet the guard who entered.
"Spencer." He noted, saluting formally.
"No time for pleasantries. His Eminence Lord Demidevimon has arrived. He would speak to the director." Spencer walked briskly past him, not bothering to salute in turn. Rothstein glared at his retreating back.
"Now, I'll only ask this once, and listen real good 'cause I'm not about to repeat myself. Tell…me…the…secret…of…the…crests! These damned clones of yours can't control their Digimon! Now tell…me…the secret!" Demidevimon pressed his face to the glass, projecting his will into the cell. A minute passed, then another. Datamon was silent, facing away from the monarch. Clearing his throat, Demidevimon circled the enclosure, putting himself face-to-face with Datamon-who simply rotated, looking away once again. "Don't dare turn your back on me, worm! Do you know who I am? I'm Demidevimon, that's who, sovereign lord of File and Server!" Seemingly unimpressed, Datamon continued to stare away. For nearly an hour, Demidevimon continued to shout, beating his wings against the glass, but to no avail. Datamon remained silent.
"He's disengaged his primary auditory receptors." Spencer observed, coming up behind them. "He recognizes that there is sound, and can probably discern its source, but doesn't bother to decipher it. To him, you're just noise." With a scowl worthy of Etemon himself, the diminutive monarch turned away.
"This job aint half as easy as I thought…" He muttered in passing. For some reason, Spencer remained, gazing at the monster. He looked harmless, now, discarded, but presently, he came to life. With no wasted movement, Datamon turned and shuffled slowly, purposefully toward Spencer, stopping some three feet away. His face was expressionless, inscrutable.
"Poor Demidevimon." He mused, his mechanical monotone barely piercing the glass. "He really is a simple creature. It was only power, for him. And respect. Each of us acts for an entirely different reason…because he cares only for himself, Demidevimon wishes to know how to control my clones. But you do not, so it amuses me to tell you. You wish to know why I act." Spencer nodded, searching the Director's face for some sign of emotion, some telltale trace of a motive. None was forthcoming. "My initial experiments with the girl and her Biyomon were disastrous, I do not mind telling you. I believed the Digimon bound to the power of the crest, of the Digivice…but as that avian proved; this was not the case. She broke my control, and had to be forcibly subdued. My cloning process may be able to replicate general genetic structure, but there is a certain quality of a rational being that it has proved unable to capture. My prototype, Etemon, was frustratingly unlike the being he was designed to emulate. In that case, I was not even able to pinpoint the species, failing genetically as well as spiritually. When I attempted to clone the girl, the technology had improved considerably. The clone was like her in ever way, but it lacked something…human essence. There is a certain facet of a human being which exists outside of their genetic structure…they call it the spirit. The being known as Vademon-…"
"The curiosity salesman?" Spencer broke in, vaguely recalling the membranous, fleshy creature from a long-ago visit to the palace.
"Precisely. Vademon is motivated by experience…knowledge. He merely wishes to know, does not care to understand. For him, it is enough to posses something. But not for me. Vademon was able to imbue my clone with the girl's essence, and the boy as well, but could not explain its nature to me."
"You couldn't accept what you couldn't understand." Spencer guessed, pacing, puzzling it out. "You couldn't let it be. You began to dissect it, to analyze it, experiment with it, on it. Pick it apart." The both came to a stop, staring intently at one and other. "You're mad." He realized, eyes widening, he stepped back. "Completely mad. That's why you act. You have driven yourself too it. You tried to find logic in the illogical, reason in the meaningless. Tried to apply your age-old theorems to human nature. And it's driven you to madness." There was nothing remotely psychotic in Datamon's manner, he was unnervingly calm, still the impossibly logical entity he had always professed to being. If he was mad, after, all, it was a madness so intensely rational that sanity paled in comparison. "That is why you strive to emulate human culture. You hope, through this, to understand humans…"
"And you…you have discovered in a second what I have yet to decipher. Emotion is familiar to you. You have taken it into yourself, and it has weakened you. I can see it in your manner. You are directionless, unsure of your purpose."
"I will destroy you. That is my purpose. You are mad, I see, and therefore must be destroyed. And I hate you. Another humanism. I do not dislike you, a Gazimon would dislike you. A human would hate you, as I hate you."
"So you say. Yes, I hate you as well, though not for betraying me. Such petty things are all beneath me now. What I desire is what has been denied me, and what is familiar to you. This emotion…I must possess it. I must understand it."
"Emotion is neither rational or irrational, it transcends logic. You will never understand it."
"You underestimate me. I am the most advanced computer in existence. There is nothing I cannot process." It was a flash of inspiration, something akin to a religious experience. All at once, it was perfectly clear.
"No…I have not underestimated you, I have misjudged you. You are not mad, after all. You have always been like this. This fanatical drive to discern the nature of humanity is merely a manifestation of what you consider rationality…you are not mad, you are a fool. You have called Demidevimon a simple creature…he, at least, acts with purpose. You, however. You wish to understand all things. Ascend to omniscience. And you are a fool for believing that possible. I leave you here, simple creature, to live out the rest of your meaningless existence. Farewell." And he turned, thinking himself very dramatic. He was unable to suppress a slight smile, he walked lightly, no longer feeling constrained by earthly forces. He had risen above Datamon. He saw through him. He was truly a greater being, superior to another, and there is no one living who can know this and not be happy.
They walked in total silence, not even looking at one and other. By now, they each wished more than anything to apologize, but would not be the first to give in on account of pride. Sora saw this, recognized its absurdity, but also its necessity. She had always considered empathy a gift-but when you truly understood why others acted, more often then not, it made you want to cry. She recalled Izzy's words-how could Datamon ever think humans were logical? They were the antithesis of logic, not even Datamon could ever understand them, let alone her. She had learned that, when in doubt, it was best not to intervene.
"We can't walk back." Joe said. "Have Tentomon digivolve." They were some distance into the desert now, and approaching the edge of the area Kabuterimon had cleared. Looking at Izzy, Sora could tell he was bitter, looking for some way to disagree. Joe, however, had chosen his statement well. It was entirely irrefutable.
"Right." Izzy muttered begrudgingly. He held his Digivice to the sky, turning it so that it caught the light of the moon, gazing at the indicator gauge. Nothing happened. A moment passed, the night breeze stirring the sand at their feet. Izzy glanced around, perplexed. Perhaps some power of the dark network was causing this malfunction.
"Listen, I promise, we'll go back first thing tomorrow." Joe said by way of apology, facing New Cairo. "We'll rescue Gomamon and Biyomon and kill Demidevimon and find out what happened to Tai and all of that. Just not now." Izzy had nothing to say to that.
"Something around here must be blocking the Digivice. Someone wants to keep us here, and not to destroy us. The dark network would have done that already." Tentomon mused, scanning the clearing. He sighted it immediately, a shallow well of wires and circuits half-buried by the sand.
"A hologram projector." Izzy observed flatly, regarding it without curiosity. When no one moved to investigate, Sora shrugged and walked over to it, gently brushing the sand from its surface. Almost immediately it came to life, sending prismatic stream into the air, which quickly formed into a three-dimensional image of a man. They did not gape, as they had done ten years ago. Joe, in fact, did not look remotely surprised.
"Gennai." He started toward the image, arms crossed behind his back, hunched over almost imperceptibly.
"Digidestined." The image intoned, and its voice was so faint even Sora had to strain to make it out. It was barely a whisper, a faint wheezing noise emanating from the old man's chest. He resembled, Joe thought, a mummy, his corpse somehow preserved these ten years without bandages and, evidently, with his brain intact. The image paused, evidently unable to recall their names. "The world is in peril…"
"Like hell it is." Joe spat, rage frothing to the surface once again. Gennai went on, unmindful of his outburst.
"Datamon must be stopped…"
"That so? Don't bother to tell us why, it's always the same. Wants to take over the world. Wants to destroy the world. And, of course, it's All Up To Us." From his pocket, he took his crest. It looked faded, a simple trinket, not the vibrant icon it once was. Faded, like Etemon, like Gennai, like everything.
"The world is in peril…" Gennai insisted, feebly. Even now, there was irresistible force in his whispering voice.
"And after Datamon, who then? Demidevimon? Kokatorimon? Digitamamon? It's always someone else, we can never rest."
"That is the way of things. Life is a constant struggle between good and evil, there is no respite. Evil can never be extinguished entirely…" Gennai spoke more clearly now, his eyes gleaming, something of his old self rising within him. "So we fight. Forever, maybe. A new threat comes, and we face it as best we can. Evil will not rest. And neither can we. Today, it is Datamon. Tomorrow, it may be Demidevimon. We will fight them all. It is our destiny."
"Destiny, prophecy…we, the Digidestined…enough. You can go on, if you want…fighting your endless war. It's not for me." He made as if to fling the crest away, but could not. It stuck to his fingers, his hand closing around it at the last second. Face twitching dangerously, he turned and began to stalk towards the city, so many miles away. Realizing immediately that it was hopeless, he collapsed in the sand nearby, staring disconsolately up at the sky. Sora, her own face full of concern, took after him. Gennai held up a hand.
"Let him go. Perhaps…perhaps it is the only way. And if he does not want to fight, we cannot force him."
"It's not a matter of forcing him." Sora claimed. "He's only confused. This has all been hard on him, on all of us. He needs someone to talk too."
"And perhaps he will find them wherever he is heading."
"Your cheapest drink." Joe requested. Why did that sound familiar? Like those words had left his parched lips before, with the same inflection, at some earlier date. Digitamamon did not scowl, as he had been expected too, but shuffled off quietly to fill the request. The place was empty; it was late. The sane were safe at home, and the drunkards had long since run out of credit and wandered out into the night.
"That crest at your neck. You're Digidestined." Digitamamon noted, casually, offhand. Of course. He was wearing the crest outside his robes, how careless. Possibly fatal mistake. But what could be done? Sighing, he tucked it inside the garment, glad to have it out of his sight.
"What do you want?" He inquired dully. He could pay, if not much.
"I have known this for some time now. Have calculated potential profit. But Demidevimon is preoccupied, and due to inflation, the bounty offered at ten years ago is not nearly enough to make it worthwhile. There are other alternatives, here, for turning a profit…blackmail…but it is not worth it. I can never rise above my caste, never become a technocrat. It is not worth it. Now, of course, Demidevimon is in power, and it will be different, but not yet. We shall see. We can only see. Am I softening with age, I wonder?" The question was not meant to be answered, and hung there as Digitamamon served Joe his generic beer.
"You wear that crest like an albatross around your neck." The barkeep observed, scrutinizing it. "You know us businessmon…always looking to make a profit off other's misfortune. I could get you a good price on that, being a relic of the crest war…unmatched historical value…"
"No, I…somehow, I couldn't. Listen, if you aren't going to turn me in, do you mind if I talk?"
"Go ahead…free country."
"And you won't listen?"
"I suppose not."
"I…I know this won't make sense to you, but…when I met up with Izzy, I thought it'd be just like old times. When we fought Devimon, and won. All of us together, and our Digimon…friends…but it can never be the same. I told him that, once, and I should have listened. Everything will be different now. Not even evil is the same…it's all completely different, and more complicated. I can't make sense of it." Digitamamon turn to the wall, inspecting the row upon row of polished glasses stacked there. From outside, there was a faint hum, the distant roar of a crowd. "Everything from these past few days seems so surreal, dreamlike…somewhere, something, it was never meant to be. I don't know." He was rambling, nonsense, verbally sorting through his thoughts. Digitamamon took no notice. Joe's thoughts strayed to Izzy, and Tentomon and Sora, in that cramped, poorly maintained fourth floor apartment, planning their assault on the palace. Maybe he would be with them tomorrow, would rescue Gomamon. He imagined the reunion, in all its storybook splendor. Pretty, yes…but sadly implausible. He might walk out in the street, ten minutes from now, and get beaten to death by a gang of outcastes. Or hit by a Monochromon caravan. He was, after all, mortal-Digidestined or not. No storybook ending. Not since Devimon.
"It does not matter if Etemon rules in New Cairo, or Gennai." Digitamamon now spoke, not really to Joe, just as Joe had not really been speaking to Digitamamon. "They cannot extinguish life. Somehow, no matter the circumstances, we will manage to persevere."
"To paraphrase…life goes on?" There was no answer, but nonetheless, he smiled. Sliding his half-finished beverage to the very edge of the counter, he stood, shrugged his robe closer about him and strode out into the night.