Chapter 21
Indigo was summoned from his corner and escorted by gendarme into the elite’s car. He found it to be a finely decorated passenger car with ornate, carved mahoganies and plush velvets. The windows were adorned with silk curtains and the chamber was lit by the romantic orange glow of oil-fueled sconces. Indigo was led to a booth occupied by Mr. Lever who himself was adorned in a bright purple dinner jacket. Before him was a setting of fine china and lever was slicing through a medallion of steak with a serrated silver knife. Indigo, wearing only his green overalls, was provided a black dinner jacket and then made to sit in the velvet seat directly across from Lever. Mr. Lever didn’t initiate any conversation. He meticulously sectioned himself off a morsel of his medallion, placed it into his mouth upon his tongue via silver fork, savored it with excessive mastication, then swallowed with the aid of a gulp of red wine.
“What do you want?” Indigo asked.
“I thought that perhaps you might care to dine with me?” Lever asked. “When was the last time you’ve had medallions?”
“Never.”
“Oh, right. I sometimes forget that one must achieve a twenty eighth degree in order to satiate such appetites.”
“What…do…you…want?” Indigo asked with indignation.
“At least have some wine. It’s a very good Sarkozy… very earthy with a seminal quality to it. Here, try…” Lever reached for the bottle to offer it to Indigo.
“No thank you,” Indigo replied.
Lever grimaced as he stowed the bottle back in its urn. He sliced himself another morsel of steak and placed it on his tongue.
“So, Indigo. Have you seen enough, yet?”
“Enough of what?”
Lever chewed slowly, forty times or so before swallowing. His eyes rolled back into his head as he savored the meat. “Enough of the real world?” He finally asked.
“What do you mean?”
Lever took another gulp of wine. “What I’m trying to ask you is have you seen enough of the world— enough of the reality of the world, that is— to prevent all this messy reformatting business?”
“Nothing’s changed.”
“May I be frank?” Lever explained after pausing another long chew. “Honestly, Gaiastan doesn’t really want to reformat you, Indigo. Yeah, sure, it would be more convenient to reboot you with a more manageable consciousness, but we really don’t want to do it to you if it can be avoided.”
“So why do it, then? Just let us go. We won’t cause you any trouble.”
Lever took another gulp of wine, then carefully wiped his mouth with his linen napkin. “You know we can’t just do that. You spacemen are too high value as Gaian assets.”
“So then what are you proposing?”
Lever smiled as he refilled his glass. “As it stands, right now, we have you, that’s undeniable. The current plan is for you to be taken back to Goropolis and your brain will be reformatted and that, as they say, will be the end of you… at least as you have currently ‘evolved’. But Gaiastan still has a problem, Indigo. You see, your friend Staley is still running around out there undermining the Republic, and he is much more destructive… much more of a threat than you. Do you see where I’m going with this, Indigo?”
“I think I do.”
“Excellent. So I’m certain that I can convince the higher ups that the return of one national hero will suffice, so long as it is the less dangerous of the two of you that remains at large.”
Indigo ran his hand through his hair as he pondered what Lever was alluding too. “So what do I have to do?”
“You’ll be given amnesty, of course, to live as you please with your little heathen savages. We’ll remain hands off, entirely, so long as you do not attempt to negatively influence the malleable minds of any undermen with any subversive ideas.”
“What do I have to do?” Indigo repeated.
“We’ll even let you keep your little companion… and the fetus, too.” Lever was waiting for the moment to close the deal. He sensed that Indigo was on the edge, teetering…
“Cut to the chase…”
“I’m sure you’ve already figured it out, Indigo. In exchange for you and your companion’s freedom, you will deliver to us… Staley.”
“And how do you propose that I do that?”
“Oh… he’ll come to you, my friend. All you’ll need to do is remain with him until we can hone in on your position through your locket and send a team down to snatch him up. It’ll be a simple extraction.”
“And you expect me to trust you?”
“Of course. Yes, I do. You really have no choice, Indigo. If you refuse then you and the woman will be reformatted. The child will be raised in a creche. Perhaps he’ll become his own Overman or perhaps he’ll be the vessel for another. Who knows? But that is the reality, Indigo. You have to trust me. Besides, when have you ever known a Sunstein Agent to go back on his word? We are a proud society with ancient traditions… legalistic traditions. We’ve been regarded as many things but never as liars.” Lever jabbed the last morsel of steak with his silver fork and placed it on his tongue. He chewed it excessively long, this time, even longer than before. Then he swallowed with an audible glump. “There is one condition, however. There is the matter of you and D’naia’s lockets. They will have to be surrendered when we take Staley. There will be no virtual afterlife for the two of you. That’s the deal.”
Indigo stared into Lever’s sparkling blue eyes to find the reflection of his own eyes staring back. He found them to be mirrors of each other’s soullessness. The twilight of the wild world flew by outside behind the silk curtains of the elite passenger car. The train was ascending again. Lever reached for his wine glass but Indigo interrupted his drink.
“I’ll die with her then?”
Lever grinned. “If you give us Staley, then yes, you’ll die. You’ll die like your ancestors did. But you’ll die on your own terms, when your body is wrecked and your mind is gone. You’ll live a— what do they call it? A ‘natural life’. I find it all to be very romantic. You two, living out your mortal existence. Death is such an ambiguous concept for the rest of us, Indigo, what with resurrection and virtual heaven and all. But you’ll truly die… along with her. It’s a bold choice you’re about to make. If you choose to return with us then you won’t really die in any metabolic sense. Both your bodies will live on. All the chemical reactions in your brains will continue. You will still basically be you, just you from a few months ago. You’ll wake up one morning thinking you just got yanked from that spacecan the day before. But that’s not the choice you’re going to make. You’re going to choose death. To me, I don’t even know what death means anymore. Only Overmen who commit suicide are refused resurrection. You’d have to be damn insane to off yourself if your immortal. Perhaps that’s why they don’t resurrect them… too crazy. But for you, you will indeed know what death means. But at least you’ll have your freedom. So, do we have a deal?”
Indigo didn’t have to answer. He knew Lever saw it in his eyes.
“You look like you want to ask me something,” Lever remarked. “Go ahead. Ask me. Ask me anything. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Either way, giving you forbidden knowledge can’t possibly be of any harm to us. Go…”
“How old are you, Lever?” Indigo asked.
Lever chuckled. He was expecting a grand question about the ultimate truth of Gaianism. Instead he got this. “I’ve had seven bodies… ‘vessels’ I call them. Oh, and I also did a decade virtually awaiting a suitable host. The 2250s were a tough decade for the host body market. Turns out, we had culled the undermen herd to deeply in those days. Do you have any idea how expensive a thirty five year old underman male with no significant, unmitigatable defects was in the 2250s? The prices were outrageous… I have high standards, Indigo. I just will not accept flaws in a host body like bad posture or excessive hair.”
“Don’t you realize that you’re already dead?”
“What do you mean, Indigo? I’m sitting right here before you?”
“You are dead, Lever. What you are is just some facsimile.”
Lever laughed. “I’m afraid not, Indigo. I’m very much alive. I can remember my entire life, all three hundred and fifty years of it. This flesh and bone is just a host… a suit of clothes if you will. And when I use it up in twenty years or so, I’ll take another, barring another price bubble that keeps my brain in the digital ether for a while. You are your mind, Indigo. The rest of it is just clothing.”
“No. You’re more than the mind. You are a soul. And your soul is dead, Lever. It died with your first body. Whatever you are today is just a copy.”
Lever let out a roar of laughter. “How quaint this ‘soul’ concept is. You were raised Humanist, no? I didn’t think you believed in such mythology. I like you, Indigo. You make me laugh. It will be a shame that your memory of our discussion will die with you. I would so look forward to reminiscing about this conversation a century from now after time has healed our current rift.”
“I would like to return to my cattle car if you don’t mind,” Indigo asked.
“Of course,” Lever replied. “And we’ll make arrangements to release you so that you can begin your mission if you’re on board. Are you sure you don’t want dinner? The medallions are quite scrumptious— the finest cut of long pig I’ve ever tasted. Absolutely succulent.”
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