Kill Switch: Chapter 53
The Paddy Wagon, or, Even the Dreadful Martyrdom Must Run Its Course
I’m transported to the holding cell in an automated paddy wagon, which travels from the edge of headquarters to the elevator, the doors of which open and close with rigid efficiency. I see my reflection in the laserproof glass of the paddy wagon. Blood speckles my face. My eyes are tired and bloodshot. I’ve lost some weight over the past few days, so the strait jacket I’m wearing hangs loosely. At the bottom of the shaft, the elevator opens, and the paddy wagon beeps forward, past the security guards, through the nature checker, and down Pod 213. The Withiners stop and stare, their visors locked on my straitjacket, which is equipped with sensors, naturally, so that the crowd can gaze me on dNet. But the gazing only goes one way. I wasn’t given a visor, so I’m seeing the world unGlassed – the people in their jumpsuits, the cameras mounted to the white plastic walls. A child, cursing, throws a handful of goo at the paddy wagon.
“Die vibekill!” The child yells.
“I missed my favorite muckbang!” Another shouts.
“The Withouter Hunter was my favorite livestream!” An old lady shrieks.
Goo keeps hitting the side of the paddy wagon, streaking down the glass. It’s torture, really, given how hungry I am, to see the goo so close, and yet so far away. An active shooter starts blasting into the crowd. The child who had called me a vibekill crashes to the ground, her face laser-seared. The pulses rip through the crowd for another minute or so, taking out a solid twenty Withiners, before the active shooter is vaporized by a security guard.
And meanwhile, the paddy wagon keeps moving, weaving in and out of the dead bodies, pushing leisurely past the massacre in a calm and focused manner.
We arrive at the holding cell a few minutes later. The front desk is now manned, according to the nameplate, by Switch 2. His robotic eyes blink disdainfully at my presence. Button pushers gather around, enjoying the spectacle. And meanwhile, the dreadful martyrdom runs its course. On a monitor in the paddy wagon, I fill out over fifty forms. Just like last time, I have to put my name, # of followers, today’s date, social links, birthdate, pod #, etc., at the top of every form, and then sign at the bottom. I answer questions about my favorite livestreams. I take a quiz that tells me which Disney Princess I am: Snow White. I watch an ad for halfMoon, then one for Derrick 9, then one for safeUp. I fill out a questionnaire about what medication I’ve taken in the past. I rate my experience so far: 1 star. I decline the free arcade tokens and pharmas.
And once I’m done with all that, the paddy wagon sidles up to the holding cell, a sliding panel opens, a ramp lowers, and I walk into the cell, where all my colleagues are sitting around, heads lowered.
Yide looks up, and when she sees me, her smile is the brightest, the most hopeful thing I’ve ever seen.
She runs into my arms, and the warmth of her saves me, if only for a moment, from the dread of what’s to come.
We kiss, sinking into each other, and I wish I could stay here, forever, in her embrace, but the moment is interrupted by my best colleague.
“Gross!” X yells. “Get a pod!”
I break away from Yide and walk over to X.
He stands. We hug.
“I missed you, man,” I say.
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“Feels like forever,” I say. “So, like, what happened with the security guards? How did they get you?”
X shrugs. “I ran into a lab, tried to misdirect them so you could get to the mainframe. And then, when they finally caught up to me, I told them that you were going up to the mansion, so that’s where they all went.”
I pat X on the shoulder. “You did good, man. You did real good.”
X forces a smile. “You did too.” He sits down on the bench.
I shake hands with Bunnfield and Claudette, happy to see that they’re still alive.
“So what’s the story?” Bunnfield asks. “Yide and X said that Vonn Senior wanted to talk to you. What did he say?”
I glance around the cell. It’s just the five of us. Of course, I’m sure it’s bugged, but it’s not like anything I say is going to matter one way or another. The deathbeam is a foregone conclusion.
“He gave me a job offer to be CEO of Vonnville,” I say.
Bunnfield pushes down his chin, folding over several layers of skin. “CEO of Vonnville? You mean, like, the moon colony? I don’t understand.”
I wave my hand and sit down on the plastic bench. “To be honest, I don’t understand either. He’s very unstable. I think his immunity protocol is making him irrational.”
“So what did you say?” Yide asks.
I look up, bending my neck at an odd angle to stretch out the muscles. “Well, I’m sure as hell not on the moon right now, am I?”
“No,” she says, “I guess not,” almost, like, disappointed.
I glance at Bunnfield. “I thought you were dead for sure.”
He shrugs. “Almost. They cornered me down by the entry point. Knew I was coming. I don’t know how.”
I look at Yide and X, who both refuse eye contact.
“You didn’t tell him?” I ask.
Yide shrugs. “I didn’t have the heart.”
“He’s going to be dead soon enough,” X says. “What’s the point in breaking his heart?”
“Tell me what?” Bunnfield asks.
Well, now I feel like a jerk. But there’s no point lying to him. He’s been lied to enough. We all have.
“Cosmo turned on us,” I say. “That’s how they knew where you were going.”
Bunnfield’s face turns pale. “No, that can’t be true.” His eyes dart desperately around the room, looking for another answer. “Cosmo would never do that to me. He loved me.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” I say. “It wasn’t personal, believe me. He found a bottle of Jaz in my jumpsuit and got hooked. He needed a fix. Believe me, he’s not himself right now. Jaz changes you at your core. It turns you into a different person, a shell of your former self.”
Bunnfield raises his chin, as if to balance some invisible object, all of his attention suddenly focused on the task.
“Wait a second,” Claudette says, stepping forward. “You mean to tell me that Cosmo gave us up? That can’t be. We were together until the very end, when he went down to the valley to pick you up. He was very excited, watching it all unfold. If he had given us up, they would have stopped us. So you see, it’s not true. It simply can’t be true. Nobody cared more about Operation Digital Disruption than Cosmo. Nobody, I say.” Claudette’s rapid speech slows to a sudden halt, like a train at the end of the tracks.
“I know it’s hard to stomach,” I say, “but it’s true. He was out of his head, reeling off withdrawals. He was desperate.”
“You’re wrong,” Claudette says. “If Cosmo had told them the plan, they would have stopped us sooner.”
“They didn’t stop us sooner,” I say, “because they wanted Digital Disruption to succeed, to throw into relief the pleasure center of dNet. They welcomed us as enemies, with open arms. They’re using us as a way to unite The Within against The Without. Operation Digital Disruption sustains the notion that Vonn Industries is protecting Withiners from some great monster that’s threatening to rip away all their comforts.”
“It’s not true,” Claudette says, her vocal cords cracking. “It’s a fucking lie.”
“No, Claudette,” Bunnfield says, his eyes regaining focus. “It is true. It all makes sense now. He grew very distant, very fast. I thought it was just the stress from the bombings. I thought his forgetfulness was from lack of sleep. But no, it was from Jaz. And this morning, before I left, he had this shifty gaze, this restlessness. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He said it was because he was scared I would die. But I see now that something deeper was going on. He was debating whether or not to betray us.” He lowers his chin, letting the invisible object drop. “Poor Cosmo. Claudette is right. Nobody cared more about Operation Digital Disruption than he did.” He sighs. “Not even Elijah.”
I decide not to tell Bunnfield – or anyone else for that matter – about the last I saw of Cosmo, the way he stumbled out into the wilderness, begging for water.
A red light starts beeping. The panel door opens.
A guard steps in. “Vonn 19, Yide 33, and X 4,” he says. “You all have a visitor. Two, actually.”
“Who is it?” I ask, but before I even finish the question, I know the answer.
Taco and Ginger are here.