(ORIGINAL) Farima - The Project Maximus Story Part 6

in #scifi6 years ago

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 Previously on Farima: Part 1 - Project Maximus, Part 2 - Project Farima, Part 3 - Change of Plans, Part 4 - The Man With No Nation, Part 5 - Secrets Among Friends 

PART 6 - The Treaty Writ in Blood

There are times when a person can be molded in your hands like clay pulled from the ground. This person will come of age in your likeness and will carry on your legacy should the day ever come that you are no longer able to carry the burden of your mission.   

Khalil watched the scrolling digital images of Natia projected from his orunmila. He saw a woman he had helped to shape in the image of the child he never had. She was strong-willed and determined, like him. Yet she had her father's subversive spirit and his straight face which in stressful situations could throw off a man with a weaker attention to detail. Khalil had read her micro-expressions throughout the meeting about Project Farima earlier that day. She was very upset - as he had expected because he raised her. She tried to keep a straight face, but Khalil knew better. 

As badly as Khalil didn't want to admit it, behind her smiles and seeming agreement - there lurked a threat to him and what he'd built. Khalil stood, he was alone in his bedroom. Finally...I have peace. A chance to think. He walked to the sliding window door to his pyramid-shaped complex which overlooked the island on a hill. Observing the starry night sky backdropt behind the waving black and gold flag of New Manden - Khalil Buhari had a moment of reflection. It had been a terribly long day full of tough decisions. Decisions he had no idea whether he'd be able to control the outcome of. What happens if someone finds out Acacia planted the first bomb? Who pulled off the second attack though? I didn't tell her to blow up anything else? Now if I get exposed for the first one, everyone will think I killed Mandenites and I never wanted that. 

Khalil took a step out onto his balcony and let the wind flow through his garments. He was tired, but not worn. He'd felt worse many times in his past, and knew he'd overcome all things that troubled him. First, he'd need to test the loyalty of the woman he'd raised since the end of the war. 

He looked down on the video pad he held in his hands. The image of Natia walking towards his room made Khalil's heart race. He knew what he needed to do was not something she'd want, so he had to test her without her initial knowledge - or agreement. She'd never say yes to this, but I cannot have her on my team if I can't trust her. He had called for her an hour ago, and there she stood suddenly at his door. 

She gently closed the door behind her. "One of your aides said you wanted to see me?" 

Khalil turned - still standing outside on his balcony overlooking the island. It was dark in his room as he kept the lights low. He stood like the shadow of a judgemental spirit with his eyes dark and cunning and the Mandenite flag flying behind him. With his hands behind his back, he strode back inside, stopping at the top of the steps that led down to where Natia stood. "Yes, Natia I read through your file. I seemed to have forgotten that there was a training module that had not yet been completed." 

She stared at him blankly. 

"And I need you to complete it. It's very important as it deals with the A.I. that is integrated into the system of the Farima mech." 

"This couldn't wait until tomorrow Khalil? You're calling me in here after dinner at this hour of the night to do a damn module?" 

He sighed deeply and began walking down the steps - taking his time with each stride. "The module is not as important as your undivided attention. Tomorrow you and your team begin the last phase in the development of Homo Maximus. Tomorrow I lose your attention and this is very important to me." 

Natia waved her hands in the air agitatedly. "Ok, ok. Let's just get it over with." 

Khalil smiled darkly. "Great - let's begin." He pressed a button on his handheld pad and a hidden door opened up between them from within the floor. A bright light from the lower level room radiated, creating a soft glow within the room. 

Natia followed Khalil down a staircase that led into an expansive underground complex that she never would've known existed had he not revealed it to her. At the far end of this underground complex - a room with transparent glass walls sat. 

"This pyramid building isn't just my home Natia, it's the source of my imagination. It's where I design and engineer everything that has ever benefitted New Manden. Look around you, at the flasks and the schematics that line the walls. You stand in the belly of my world now Natia - the world of my desires. In here lies the secret that built the foundation of our great civilization. Within the levels of this underground bunker, the secrets of our dominance in the asteroid mining sector are hidden. I think the scholars are calling it 'The Buhari Principle?' 

"Yes, you've never let me forget it Khalil. The idea that the pursuit of one's own self-interests takes obligation over those of others." 

"But in the case of The Buhari Principle, it's in relation to the people of New Manden. The self-interests of all Mandenites means more to me than the entire world." Khalil waved for her to follow him into the room where two twin stations rested. "You will complete the final module with me - in suspended augmented reality." 

Natia put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "I've heard too many stories about SAR usage and mind control. I know this is not the only way to complete the module." 

"On this island it is." Khalil stood there with his arm outstretched in the direction of her station which consisted of a plush reclining chair and a computer-controlled helmet that covered the head of the person sitting in the seat. 

"I know I'm going to regret this." Natia said. Before agreeing to Khalil's request that felt more like a demand. 

Natia closed her eyes in the real world of flesh, and when she opened them she stood in a virtual world - a construct built on code and controlled by an artificial intelligence she knew little about. She sat next to Khalil on a helicopter as it flew low over the war-torn city of Charlotte. She felt an object in her pocket and pulled it out recognizing it as an old cellular phone. The date on her phone said June 25, 2030. She looked out the side window and saw smoke rising from fiery buildings. Cars were burnt out and rubble littered the streets. Khalil, who sat next to her, only looked forward at a man that looked identical to him sitting a row in front of them. Natia immediately noticed that it was Khalil, only twenty-one years younger. He sat next to a man and a woman...who's faces she could not yet see. 

“This is not a training module for an A.I. is it?” Natia asked knowingly. “You lied to me didn't you?” 

The elder Khalil remained silent. “It is a training module...or sorts.” 

“Well I don't like liars, I want out.” Natia looked around and called out. “Let me out! I don't want to be here anymore!” Nothing happened. 

“I didn't mention this before our entry.” Khalil looked at her. “This is a reconstruction of my memory Natia – my memory of the day we signed the Treaty of Charlotte.” 

“I know what day it is...I saw it on my phone.” 

Khalil pointed to the man and woman who sat in front of them. “There is something important you need to see first. The A.I. won't let you out until you follow this memory through to the end.” 

“My parents died on this day! I don't want to see this through to the end!” Natia's eyes bulged and the veins in her face began to twitch in anger and frustration. “Let me out!” 

“No!” Khalil screamed. “Not until you see.” 

The helicopter landed with a soft thud in front of a courthouse. The memory bots, as they were called, didn't react to their statements. The memory played like a film, with Natia and Khalil as the conscious observers.   

Once out of the aircraft, the two unknown passengers turned as if to face Natia and Khalil. Natia recognized them immediately as her parents. A tear dropped quickly from her eyes, she'd never seen them in virtual form. She'd never wanted to see them and never wanted to give an A.I. authority to reconstruct her memories of them because the pain of losing them was too strong. That didn't stop Khalil however from reconstructing them through his own memories. Her parents were both tall, like she was. They both had raven black hair that was braided and wild from war. They carried weapons on their shoulders with tense expressions on their faces. 

“Can they see us?” Natia asked. 

“No. Some memory reconstructions allow for interaction, but that is really just the A.I. interpreting how they'd act. It's not the real thing. This is a step below that however. We're just here to observe, not interact.” 

Younger Khalil and Natia's parents looked through the two of them at a group that approached from the street. 

“The K.W.R. delegation.” Khalil spat on the ground as the virtual emissaries approached. 

“The Butcher of Baltimore.” Natia recognized the image of the man history said would die soon. 

“Ah yes...about him. You want to see how he dies?” Khalil asked with glee in his voice. “You know he killed tens of thousands of revolutionaries and their families right?” 

“I've heard the horror stories. People who escaped his internment camps eventually made their way to New Manden. There's a museum dedicated to them today.” Natia shuddered at the sight of the tall, bearded man who's head was bald. 

“Let's speed this up.” Khalil pressed a button on his orunmila and the world melted around them and reformed in real-time. Now Khalil and Natia stood in a large conference room. Dozens of representatives from three factions were present. Debate raged back and forth. 

“What is this?” Natia asked. They stood off to the side as the details of the treaty were hashed out between the various parties. 

“The K.W.R. lost the war and they were desperate for a resolution. The Turtle mech was a weapon they were not prepared for and they knew prolonging a fight would only cause them to lose more casualties. So they offered a truce. They were not in a position to make demands.” Khalil pointed in the direction of where his younger self stood with Natia's parents and a host of other revolutionaries. “We had everything and they had nothing...and they hated this. There were elements within the old American government that wanted nothing to do with either side, and they didn't realize that the old country would never be the same again. Lines had to be drawn and factions had to be given huge swaths of territory...the country was cut up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The old American state was split into two countries. One simply known as America which maintained its original government, the other half went to the New American States which is controlled by the K.W.R. - and then there was New Manden which was built on artificial land to the East of old America. So old America serves as a buffer between the NAS and New Manden.” 

Natia saw the Butcher of Baltimore stand up. His resentment and disgust for the future Mandenites was palpable.   

“I will not be a signatory to a document that allows these insurrenctionists to have whatever they want! They will have us all in chains if they have their way!” 

“Chains! You want to talk about chains! The fact that you are even allowed here is an afront to the peace talks. You're a war criminal that deserves the hell you will receive in the afterlife.” The younger version of Khalil spoke passionately. 

“And you're a damned rebel traitor! You socialist scum! I'd do it all over again. You bet I would and if I had my way, your people would still be in those camps right now!” The Butcher of Baltimore laughed loudly. 

Younger Khalil, with fire in his eyes, pulled a short sword from his waist and leapt across the table. The blade sliced through the Butcher's neck like hot butter. Blood flowed like a mighty water fountain all over Khalil's face and the table he stood on. Everyone leapt from their seats in shock, some grabbed their own weapons and pointed them at each other. 

Natia saw the look of pleasure all over Khalil's face, both of them – the memory bot and the man himself now older who looked on his younger self with delightful eyes. She was disgusted on the inside. “How did the treaty not fall apart right there? Seeing as how you gave them every reason to walk away from the negotiating table?” 

“You don't understand Natia, they had nothing left but bluster. I had a mech right outside that could've blown their entire delegation to shreds. They lived whether we wanted them to or not.” 

Natia shook her head. “That was foolish Khalil...and mad.” 

Khalil turned to face her with his eyes beaming at her. “It was war. You know, your father had a similar reaction. He was a reformist, he wanted to change the system not replace it with one of our own. Your father and I had our disagreements, but we could always trust each other. We never had to worry about whether or not the other person had our back.” He walked in front of her as the memory froze in space. “Do you have my back Natia? Do you trust me...as I trust you?” 

Natia thought on her words carefully. “You use tactics that I would never use. You're a fighter from the war, I am not...I'm a victim of it. I might have been born on the winning side, but that doesn't mean I didn't lose anything. I and many people in New Manden lost a whole lot. Entire families were wiped out...others had to start from nothing. But, you were there. You were always there as a beacon of what is possible.” 

I still sense apprehension in her. She wouldn't give me a straight answer. Fine, let me take it up a notch. “There's one final thing you have to see Natia.” The memory melted away and reformed around them once again.    

Now Natia stood in a kitchen with a younger Khalil and her parents. They were all smiling and talking about the future and the formation of New Manden. Suddenly a group of K.W.R. soldiers stormed the home and began shooting. Natia could hear a young girl crying in the background amonst the gunfire – screaming for her mother. 

Natia begins to move around frankly. “No, don't show me this! I don't want to see this!” 

Khalil stood silent. Like a ghost in the middle of a virtual shootout as the pinging sounds of richochetting bullets rang through the air. 

“Stop it Khalil! Enough is enough!” Natia dropped to her knees and began to cry. She looked up suddenly and say her mother take a bullet in the stomach. She falls back hard against the wall with a thud and slides down as a streak of blood follows her to the floor along the white wall. 

Natia hears her father scream as he too is shot, but in the back. Her mind begins to crack and it becomes too hard to breathe. She loses focus and ignores the actions of Khalil in the moment. She collapses to the ground as if she herself has died with her family. 

“Natia...Natia are you ok?” The hazy image of Khalil comes into focus. 

“Why am I still in this memory?!” Natia asks enraged as she looks around and sees that the K.W.R. soldiers are now dead. The bodies of her parents lay motionless on the floor. “This was all your fault! If you hadn't done what you did at the signing of the treaty, they wouldn't have come after my family! My parents might still be alive!”

Khalil looked down at the floor and back up and into Natia's troubled eyes. “I know. If I had the ability to do things differently, then I would.” 

Natia dared look again and she now saw the shared memory that she and Khalil had. The memory of her as a child holding her dead mother in her arms and sobbing without end. Khalil stands behind her with his hand outstretched. 

The younger Khalil asks, “do you trust me?” 

The younger Natia responds, “yes.” 

Khalil, now older, once again stands over a distraught Natia. “Do you still trust me? Can I depend on you to do what needs to be done?” 

Natia didn't hesitate. “You can depend on me to finish Project Farima, but I do not trust you. Not anymore.”

Suddenly, Natia wakes and she's no longer in suspended augmented reality. She quickly lifts herself from the chair and storms out of the room leaving Khalil behind without a word. She wipes the tears from her eyes along the way. 

If I do not have your loyalty, then I have reason to suspect you. Just like I suspected your father. Khalil thinks to himself as Natia rushes upstairs and out of his range. 

Once outside, Natia bends over and pukes into a group of bushes. Snot runs from her nose and her eyes are full of tears as her mind races. “He's insane. He's freaking insane! How dare he put me through that without telling me! All to do what? To test me! He lied to me! Do I trust him? I don't trust him as far as I can see him now.” 

Natia knew she had to collect herself before entering into the dorm section of the main brick building where nearly everything on the island of importance was located. She knew she couldn't allow her team to see her this way. She stood tall and straightened her t-shirt and wiped the tears from her eyes. 

Deep down inside, Natia felt like a changed woman. Her purpose now felt clearer, it was no longer a question of whether Khalil would incite another war – but when. It's no longer theoretical. He's a madman who's agenda must be subverted. But how do I pull this off without being suspected? 

Natia paced back and forth briefly. She knew pushing forward with her plan to alter Ameer's genes would be risky. They know the risks involved. They've already agreed. It's Oba I have to worry about. 

Coming to her senses, Natia began heading back towards the main building. “We push forward. We must push forward. Our end justifies our tactics. The end could mean the difference between peace and war with millions of lives saved. We just might have to break the law to do it.” 

Natia neared the facility knowing her life would never be the same again. She was on a path she could not walk away from now. The pit of her stomach burned with ambition and she was more headstrong than ever before. Whatever Khalil thought he was doing, Natia knew he had no idea what she was now capable of. The mystique surrounding the man who raised her was now no more. No longer her mentor, now a dark entity capable of heinous acts of violence.   

As she reached the door, she suddenly broke down and dropped to her knees and began to cry once again. Her hands trembled on the door knob as she hoisted herself back to her feet. The most important man in her life up to that point outside of Adan, may have been indirectly responsible for her parents death.   

She wiped away the tears again. 

“Just wait Khalil. That was the biggest mistake you've ever made. Nothing will stop me now.”   

 

WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR:

My holiday break is over! Back to writing.

"It has been a joy writing this series and it's only just beginning! I have a lot planned for this world and want to take everyone on Steemit along for the ride. There are many more chapters to come. This one was long because there was a lot I had to set up. With your support, I can continue to flesh out this cool new world set in a fictional nation in the Not-Too-Distant Future. 

Farima is an afro-futurist story you don't want to miss!

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