They Tell Me I'm The Bad Guy (26 page)

Jesus Christ. "Yeah. Pretty sure I need to be either more drunk or less drunk for this," I
replied
.
I just had to let him get his shit out. Just play the game. Just keep my mouth shut while he rambled this crap.

The little girl grinned and held up his/her joint. "It's a trip, mate. Completely bitchcakes."

The Father went on like he was reciting all this from memory. "So, we have the question of the structure of reality. When you crack it open and look at it, you find one thing in this universe that parallels this wave behavior that all matter in the universe exhibits: holograms. Holograms are created by illuminating a wavefront, waves again, to create what they call the object wavefront from a two dimensional information source. Now, remember that last part. Waves, frequencies, vibrating, that's what all of this is. 'Reality' is an 'object' given false depth from an information source, of information tightly packed. That's why particles across vast distances can nearly instantly affect each other, which, given our current understanding of physics, should not be possible. Their separation of location is an illusion of this wave projection, but going by the holographic model, their two-dimensional information is adjacent regardless of what we perceive as the particles' distance from each other. So it becomes clear that our three-dimensional world is simply a projection of two-dimensional information."

What. The.
Fuck
.

"And, if we're all connected to everything as part of this information source, it suddenly makes sense why Post-Humans don't have to live according to the rules everyone else has to. It becomes clear how someone like Tracey can be in one place on Earth and then another. Because there are no separate places, only unified information given false substance. Silvy can experience our thoughts because there are no separate thoughts. You can create fire because you and a flame are both just pieces of information with no difference between you. Post-Humans prove and
supersede
the programming of reality as this holographic model, this giant Universe Machine. There's no difference between your body and mine," he said. "We only think there is because our brains confine us to thinking that way."

The Mother kicked in with, "He's straight, by the way. Don't let the homo-erotic subtext fool you."

The little girl choked on smoke and pounded the table, "I was thinking the same fucking thing!"

The Father gave the Mother the finger with a laugh. He leaned forward toward me, elbows on the table. "What we're doing here is pretty straightforward, don't get hung up in the
complexities
too much because you'll go nuts. The part that concerns you is that we're testing Post-Humans with singular abilities, with only one gift, to isolate what's different in you that causes the perceived divisions to no longer exist. We analyze how your powers interact with everything around us, to the holographic super-structure, in a standardized and monitored way so we can find the truth beneath the illusion. People like you are the key to the lock no one can see."

The Mother added, "This isn't just important, it's the only thing that's important. We're digging through to the sub-basement of everything, and we've already made discoveries that can be built on
to make alterations
to the code
.
Moving
atoms first, mountains down the road
to effect real, tangible change to everything
around us
.
"

"That's right," the Father nodded.

There was a pause that meant I was finally
being allowed to say something.

I licked the Everclear off my lips. "Okay. All this.
All of this
, has been about this hologram shit?" I slammed a fist on the table and rattled the liquor bottles. "All of this is for some crazy bullshit about the universe being a hologram? Goddammit,
are you fucking kidding me?
People are
dead
for this retarded shit. My best friend is
dead
. My
life
is shot to shit." I snatched up the newspaper'd hunk of flesh collecting flies and threw it at the Father. "Get this fucking thing away from me." He slapped it down before it hit his face.

I stood up and walked right out of the shade of the canopy. "Fuck this shit, man." I turned around and raised my arms to the three of them. "Come on. You gonna have that," I screamed up at the sky, "
Commie
pussy
shoot me? Go ahead." I waited and looked up. "No bullets!
How 'bout that!
" I
stormed back
under the canopy
and locked eyes with the Father. I
kicked my chair into the table
to rattle
all the bottles again. "What the fuck is this, and who the fuck are you three? Why in the
goddamn fuck
am I here?"

He stared me down without flinching. "I'm going to give you another chance to be cooperative. I'm not out here in Buttfuck, Mexico to play grab-ass. I'm not antagonizing the SCEIA and
Ibn Meghar and
the Shining Beacon Coalition and agencies worldwide for the pure hell of it. Singular traits, that's what we're after. You've got a big one, an elemental force. You come to camp, and you'll be neck-deep in clean whores, booze and whatever drugs turn you on. You walk away from camp when we're done, and you're paid. You walk away from this table
right
now, and the Red Ghost gets an answer
about your state
that I guarantee you won't like. It's a long walk to the border."

I leaned in and looked that fucker square in the eye. "Singular traits. Well, check this shit out." I thought of winter,
of
freezing my ass off getting my truck out of a
snow bank
with Will's heavy ass pas
sed out in the cab, of my grand
dad's deep freezer full of deer meat. I fought past the spike of headache pain
pushing while this dehydrated caused me
and cooled the hot
desert
air until we could all see our breath. And
then
I set my chair back up and sat down
in it, arms crossed over my chest
. "That put some shit in your cereal
, boys
?"

All three of them
sat there with nothing to say until the Mother piped up. "It must not be pyrokinesis, at least not solely. Cryokinesis as well suggests--"

The little girl picked up the ball and ran with it, "It suggests we've been put on or Tracey didn't know what the fuck she was talking about, which is par for that fucking course. He's got temperature control, full-on affecting atomic motion
acceleration
and
deceleration
, not just conjuring up fire. He keeps the burn going without a fuel source, but there's way more to it than
only that. It'll take time to decode
."

I didn't take my eyes off the Father.
He had d
isappointment all over his face. He
nodded and
crushed his cigarillo
out on the table
. "You've been hiding that?" he asked me.

I laughed at him. "I didn't know I could do it until a couple of days ago.
"
I leaned back in my chair and looked at each of them in turn. "
Good thing
my entire
fucking
life didn't get pissed do
wn the drain over it, right?
So what now? You gonna let Duck have me?"

The little girl flicked his/her joint away and snagged a bottle of Jameson Whiskey.
He ignored me and turned to the Father.
"Well, old man, do you want to begin a new search or call this whole thing off
at this point
?
I've been saying Darwish is out best bet
."

The Father nodded
to her
. "Yeah. Get him. And tell Duck he's got Tracey for a h
alf hour with the cameras off."

The little girl put down her bottle after a hefty gulp. "Fuck, make it an hour."

Shit.
"Hang on, she didn't know," I
told the three of them
. "Tracey didn't know I could do that. I didn't even know."

"Due
diligence
," the Father said, adding,
"Don't worry, we wo
n't make you watch
this time,
"
as an insult.

The little girl flung the bottle of Jameson over my head with a shitty glimmer in his/her eye to make me flinch.
Little shit.
"I've got company here, boys, so I'm done. Moses, it's been real, have yourself some fun. See you two soft dicks at dinner. Silvy, play me out." The little girl's body went limp in the chair, Mr. Earle's mind gone from h
er.

I pushed my chair back from the table. "
Yeah, so
I'm done with this shit. I'm done. Send me back stateside. You can't use me, and I swear to God I won't say anything to anybody, I just want to forget the whole thing. Hell, send me anywhere."

The Father shook his head and screwed the top back on his Gentleman Jack. "I'm not going to pretend with you that that's an option anymore because neither of us is that stupid. You know how this h
as to go. You're our guest now. Like I said, we've got whatever you want here. It's Dodge City with no Bill Hickok. Go buck wild. Your time will be more than worth it. We're nearing the end, and everybody here gets a payday of their wildest dreams once we kick off.
They'll set you up with a bed at camp. Get tore-up and get some sleep. Silvy."

He went limp too.

"Mother
fucker
."

The Mother put the top back on her/his Basil Hayden. "Well, that went off the rails fast. How're you holding up?"

"Not fucking great, Two-Stroke."

He/She nodded. "Yeah. It's a lot to process, I know. It's not
every day
you find out your entire outlook on the world, top to bottom, is a sham. These first meetings are, well, this was one of the better ones, believe it or not. You did fine. Don't
mope. You got dealt a bad hand,
make the best of it now."

I stared at the Mother. "I got dealt a
bad hand
? Who the fuck are you guys? I know Bob's a fucking serial killer or some shit, but what is this? Do you
fucking dicks
have any idea what you've done to my life?"

He/she scowled at me. "Hey, c'mon. Life's hard. We've made sacrifices, the thr
ee of us have, but life goes on--"

"
'
Life
'
s hard?
'
Is that what you just fucking said
to me
?"

"
Let me finish
," he/she shouted.
"
Life
'
s
hard
,
and the ones that move on with it come out better for it. I'm sorry that you lost your little civilian life, but keep in mind that it was gone when you burned down that block. I didn't do that. Bob didn't do that. That was you. It was only a matter of time before agents showed up at your door for it. And your friend was," he/she sighed, "Look, let's call a spade a spade. He'd already been inside, odds are he was going to be pulling jobs one way or another with or without Tracey. You did what you could to set him straight, and that's admirable. You did everything you could with him. You know you did. What happened to him was bound to happen."

"What the fuck do you know? He wou
ld've been fine," I lied.

The Mother shrugged and said, "Maybe you're right," and did another hit of whiskey. The wind whipped up and shook the liquor bottles. "Come to camp," she said. "Come get laid. Come get tore-up like Bob said. Don't worry about us. We're irrelevant. We're close to
harnessing
this thing, and I promise you if you stick with us the rewards will be
un
-real. Focus on that.

"I do want you to hear me when I say this, however: Tracey is off limits, and we mean it. I know you've got a score with her and we
all
know she's not the sharpest knife, but you can still cut with her if you use enough pressure. Other than that, there aren't many rules. They'll fill you in when you get to camp."

This was bullshit. This whole fucking thing. Dehydration and alcohol made the world spin, but I pushed past that shit. Fuck these guys. I could ruin them with a thought; I just need
ed to know where to think it. If I got
into wherever they were doi
ng their shit for just a second,
I could bring it all down
in flames
.

I took another drink and kissed Two-Stroke's ass. "Fuck it, you're probably right. You guys got me out of a cell at least. If there's anything I can do, you guys just call me, all right? I'll try to help however I can. You guys can still study me if it helps."