The Last Heretics
had been rooted out and annihilated in the Greatest Great War on Earth, but a few hold-outs were spotted from time to time like Santa Claus in the old times. Any surviving originals from the Before Times were likely dead by now, but some had allegedly managed to survive underground and even {{procreate! ew!}}, producing offspring outside the sanitary, controlled conditions of the Safe Zone. Most likely, if heretics even existed, it was their {{offspring--ew!}} that were glimpsed.
It was an urban legend: fully unmodified humans, wrinkled, leathery relics with long gray hair, sometimes turning up in the desert if Heat Seekers caught them at night outside their caves. They were as improbable, unproven, yet believed in by some, as were the Yeti in the Before Times. Like the Loch Ness monster and Big Foot, unmodded humans were in the same league as dragons and unicorns.
Even the most highly trained and regulated among us were prone to believing in the old myths. Nobody was immune to a random sighting, but at least these occurred as rarely as UFO reports in the Before Times. A few weeks of rehab, and the delusional "witness" would be all right again.
My own memory had never needed to be purged of sighting a heretic. That's why I thought it was just a test when Saurez paged me to his inner sanctum and showed me live footage of a heretic in a holding cell. Anything could be accomplished with trick photography. The trick was knowing how they wanted me to react: laughter? Squeamish revulsion? Abject horror?
Silent fascination was all I could manage. The scrappy woman in the video looked wild, rebellious, intractable, a little deranged, but oddly cheerful and unafraid. I had never imagined unmodded humans looking so... so.... uh, not as bad as I expected. I struggled to look suitably shocked and repulsed by the live footage of this primitive woman, but I could only stare in amazement.
"This one was captured 72 hours ago," Saurez said. "So far, all who have spoken to her have been damaged."
Damaged. Corrupted. That meant they were subsequently erased.
"Her mind is immune to our protocol," Suarez continued. "We can implant a chip, but we can't get it to read her. Those who studied antique languages are the only means we have of finding out from her how many others there may be."
Does it matter, I almost asked, then blinked hard, hoping I could erase the thought before it was detected. I was one of The Quicks, but I was always just one blink away from being one of The Dead.
"Do I need to be within smelling distance of her to communicate?" I asked.
Suarez smirked. "That would be too dangerous. We will connect you with a primitive audio link, if you are not afraid to try this."
If. He pretended to be giving me a choice here. I knew I was required to interrogate this heretic, even if it meant my own annihilation.
The heretic apparently found the pinpoint of light that indicated a surveillance device no matter where it was moved to. She had been standing calmly, eyes moving, taking in her surroundings. Suddenly her eyes focused on me. Her eerie blue eyes fixated on mine, and I was already getting pulled into the whirlpool.
"You can say no," Suarez said as if he meant it.
I shook my head. "I'm in."
(Possibly To Be Continued)