“But, Dad…” Joel looked at his father, and then at the iron lung in the centre of the room, under the massive skylight. “Dad…”
“I’ll still be your father,” Zachariah said. His rubbery lips pulled back into a gleeful smile. His prefab teeth gleamed unnaturally white. “If anything, I’ll be an even better father. I’ll be able-bodied. I’ll be prepared to travel with you, to help you make decisions, to help you chart a course for this company. But I’ll also finally be able to have my own life. I’ll have a fresh start. And some day, so will you.”
“You mean a hundred years from now,” Joel said, flatly. “You mean after that?”
“We’ve all made sacrifices,” his sister Katherine said. The icon of her father glowed in her hands. “It would have been easier to take the company public. But we wanted—we needed—something different. And now it’s your turn to give something up.”
“This is the future,” Paris said.
“It’s not like Daniel was a real person,” London added. “Not really. We made him, Joel. We had him built. Like a doll.”
“An action figure,” Silas rumbled. And they all laughed. Hwa’s stomach flipped over. Dr. Smith had tried to tell them. Project Changeling. An avatar. A sleeve. They had built him to their specifications, raised him up and made him comfortable, like a sacrificial lamb. And now it was time for slaughter.
“We must not laugh at Daniel,” Zachariah said, gently. “He’s been very obedient, until now. Quite the model employee. It’s just this young woman that’s turned his head.”
Hwa shut her eyes. It was her fault. If she had only wanted him less. Needed him less. She forced her head back into the game. Joel had asked her up here for a reason. And it was with Joel, she realized now, that her loyalty lay. The rest of the Lynches could go fuck themselves.
Joel stared at his siblings. He looked at his father. He reached over and brushed something from the old man’s collar. Then he leaned over and hugged him. The two of them stood together for some time.
“Hwa,” Joel said, in a clear voice.
“She revealed the truth to me,” Zachariah said, patting Joel on the back. “She showed me what I needed to do. Why I needed to move now, and not later. To strike while the iron was hot.”
“Hwa, save Daniel.” Joel was still embracing his father. He held tight. “Hwa, save him. Save him now.”
“Yes, b’y,” Hwa muttered.
She charged the two of them. She pulled Joel off his father, and pushed him behind her with one arm while her other reached out and clocked Zachariah right in the face. Let him try to transfer his consciousness when he wasn’t even conscious. See how well that worked out, for the old man.
Zachariah Lynch wove on his feet. Only his cuirass held him upright, standing on his knees like a puppet whose strings weren’t entirely cut. “Joel…” he murmured through blood. “You can’t see the future that’s coming…”
“You didn’t see me coming, either,” Hwa said, and levelled a devastating kick to his ancient body. He fell like a sack of autumn leaves. She turned to Joel. The boy stared at the old man. Then he looked at his siblings. As one, they rose from their seats. The other Lynches stared at Hwa and Joel. For the first time all night, it occurred to Hwa to wonder about prison. She knelt. Zachariah still had a pulse. “He’s alive.”
“Shame,” Katherine whispered. “Fucking megalomaniacal prick. Roko’s Basilisk. Honestly. It’s like he never left the cult.”
“He was crazy,” Silas said. “I loved him, but he was fucking nuts.”
“Well said,” Paris Lynch said, pulling his jacket straight. “I must say, Joel, for a first official executive decision, you’re doing extremely well. We won’t forget this, anytime soon. Naturally we’ll be helping you with the transition, now that Father’s health has taken such a rapid decline.” He winked at Hwa.
His twin, London, tossed the icon toward the centre of the room. The others quickly joined it. She shook her head as though to clear it. The other Lynches pricked up their ears, identical in their mannerism of listening. “Oh dear. Is that screaming? From downstairs?”
“Happy Halloween,” Silas said, and raised his glass.
Joel ran. Hwa followed.
*
“Joel!”
He was running much faster, these days. She had only a moment to be pleased about that before the crowd crushed her against one wall. She ran against the current of crying teenagers heading upstairs. They sobbed and tripped on their trains and tails as Hwa moved downstairs. She watched Joel weaving through them, getting further ahead of her, his footwork quicker and more graceful after only a few weeks of training. Prefect tried to tell her something but it was so loud, on the stairwell, echoing with feet and cursing and frantic pings. Her specs flooded with information on each student and she ripped them off, jammed them down her collar. She rode the handrail the last few steps, dashing out onto the dance floor.
Joel was there, with Dr. Carlino. He looked like he was asleep. The older man cradled him in his arms.