Somehow, the genes were inserted into the Stream for the Keeper to now deal with. This was an interesting task for the neutral Keeper, for he was always meant to assign people new identities as reborn clones from old genes. However, even though that was his only job, he knew that bringing forth Monicans and Breens continued the never ending war. The Keeper knew he was going to regret this choice, knowing it would start a war in his neutrality. He did it anyway.
The Keeper brought back Monica into a new form.
This meant that war is now inevitable. People will die on both sides, be reborn on both sides, an immortally rage in war. The change of this was the fact that Monica was brought back not in the form of a child clone, but a full grown adult cloned in the lab.
The Keeper sighed the sigh of an old man. Monica is now reborn, and now there's no one to stop her…well, maybe one person…
Monica looked up around her surroundings. The room was bright, and smelled of amniotic fluids and sterile equipment. Dressing herself in the latest fashion, Monica realized that she was reborn and that this was a different time and place.
"What year is this? Where am I? Who will tell me of what has happened since my death?" Monica said to the Monicans that were in the cloning chambers assisting her in every way.
"The year is 2311 ma'am. We are in a cloning chamber here in Monica City, the zeppelin that usually assigns the old genes to new clones was damaged extensively by our former Monican leading agent, Aeon Flux. Since your death, the industrial disease has left humanity sterile. So, we resort to cloning as our means of surviving reproductive means as a species. The Goodchilds have had their regime since your death and we rebel in your name." A Monican agent said to her humbly.
Monica placed her pale hand on the man's face stroking it lovingly. "Well then," Monica replied, now informed to date on current events, "We have work to do."
I ran through the mist of the greenhouse that gave my skin some relief from the heat. Trevor kept up with me, faster than I had expected. Navigating our way through the maze of hedges in various parts of the Botanical Gardens, I felt at peace with myself even though I knew at some point, I was going to die yet again.
"Aeon, I really think you should come with me instead." Trevor huffed as he kept in pace with me.
"No, that's protocol and predictable. I'm not predictable; thusly we are doing as I say Trevor." I firmly insisted on this.
Trevor pulled on my arm to make me look at him, "You know just when I thought I had you all figured out, you prove me wrong." He smiled his charming smile like a snake. I paused to reply, "You know if you want to know me better, instead of having Breens constantly shoot me, you could've just talked to me." Trevor raised his eyebrow questioningly, "Oh? I didn't know that we could've had a democratic revolution and diplomacy between Monican terrorists and civilized Breens." He added sarcastically.
"Do you think all of us as blood thirsty mindless drones? Not everyone wants a war, but don't be fooled, I am their best fighter. I could destroy this whole city by myself." I responded darkly.
"I guess there is always more than the iceberg shows Aeon." Trevor admitted. I stroked the side of his face with the back of my hand, "As much as I'd like to dwell on our 'relationship,' we really need to continue on our way to the Capitol."
Trevor nodded in agreement. We continued on our way until we both were now at the monorail that took anyone and everyone throughout the land.
Trevor and I tried to be very subtle in getting on the train. But of course, on the intercom, there was news of what happened with the zeppelin, and how Trevor and I are fugitives. Something shocked the both of us when we heard it announced, "My beloved Monicans…"
That voice…it was so familiar, and instantly we knew the shit we are now in.
"I am Monica, and I have returned to you all. There has been a cancer upon our race and it is that of the Goodchild Regime. I am here as the cure, to aid in the destruction of that Regime and we will flourish in an age of peace."
Trevor and I looked at each other silently as we listened, "Now I speak directly to Oren and Trevor Goodchild, you better prepare yourself for you brought your own destruction upon yourselves. And now for my beloved Aeon Flux…" There was a dramatic pause, this lady was the narcissist type clearly, "You will have one chance to come back to us and all will be forgiven, for all Monican blood is precious, but-" Damn, this woman loves being dramatic, "If you choose not to come back to us, you will be hunted down and killed. I shall be with you all soon my beloved city." The transmission cut, and people murmured at the strangeness of it all.
Trevor said, "I'm on the first slot of the enemy list, how about you?" He looked at me at my decision, "I am my own person, and that alone will get me killed by both Breens and Monicans. I may be the hired gun, but my philosophy is radical even for a Monican." My answer seemed to satisfy him.
He held my hand, because when it comes down to it, we may be clones and our consciousness transcends each body, but we only have one life we-even as clones-are different. In the end, we don't want to die, and though we'd never say it, Trevor and I are scared. But unlike most, we ran to our deaths willingly.