Programmed Emotions

Programmed Emotions Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"You're worried."

It's the morning after and I barely get any sleep that night. We are headed to meet the other survivors. What's left of us at least. We are following signs. Digital signs. Mr. Finnick is able to hack into the entire city. He turns on televisions, changes traffic lights and sends us digital signals to let us know where to go. We follow these signs silently for the most part. Each new sign brings me a sense of excitement understanding just how much control we have when we're online in our world. Bronx doesn't seem half as fascinated as me as we walk. He's been staring at me the whole time we are walking.

I shrug in response to his concern, "I dunno. You can't just tell someone that they are going to die if they make a choice and still expect them to make it."

"I said there is a possibility."

"What makes you think we want to take that possibility? What makes you think we still WANT to shut IT down after knowing we can't survive without IT?"

"Shutting IT down is the right thing to do."

"Is it?"

"You don't see this as a problem?" he asks.

I pause. I keep thinking about Tessa. I keep thinking about how concerned she was. I keep thinking about how worried she was. Tessa had a point.

"Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to be offline. To never know the truth," I state, "Look around. All these people seem happy. They seem..."
They seemed at peace. I'm looking around. People are worried about small things. They are worried about what they are eating for dinner, how to get a boyfriend or girlfriend, they are worried about getting that raise for work and other everyday things. They aren't in a war fighting for a freedom that no one ever asked for.

"You're doubting me," he states.

He seems upset about it. Honestly, I can feel it. The truth was everything he was saying was doubtful. So yes, I was doubting him. I was doubting everything he'd ever told me. But it's so hard to tell him that.
So I get quiet instead.
I don't respond.

"Do you feel this?" he asks grabbing my hand.

"What?"

"Your skin pressed up against my skin," he states, "Do you feel that?"

He's trying to show me something and for a moment I don't understand it. I'm looking down at his hands and none of it really makes sense.

"You're just touching me."

"It's not just a touch," he states, "It's the intention. Right now I'm holding your hand. Truly, holding your hand. And there is no grand design. I'm not being triggered to hold your hand. I'm doing it because I want to. Look at those people who you think are so happy. How do you know they are truly happy..."

"They look like it."

"They are PROGRAMMED to look that way. They are programmed to smile. They are programmed to walk, to run, to pretend like anything they are doing is their own opinion," he explains, "I can free us. All of us. But I need you to believe in me."

"Why do you care what I think?"

"I just have this connection to you..."

"My father..."

"It's more than that."

"What is it?"

Bronx seems somewhat embarrassed at that moment. His face avoids mine. Things have been weird between us. It started a while ago but it seemed to climax last night with us sleeping in the same room. Bronx had gone out of his way to stay away from me. And I had gone out of my way to stay away from him.

And even right now there is something off about how he avoids eye contact with me, "You'd think I was weird if I told you."

"Bronx----"

I don't get the word out. We are in front of the store. The music group Migos pops up the screen repeating as though in some sort of loop, "YEAH, THAT WAY!"

It causes me to break out in laughter.

"What was that?" he asks.

"Mr. Finnick has a sense of humor," I state talking about the music group,

"You know, using Migos..."

"Don't know who the Migos are," is Bronx's response.

He says it without joking. It's kind of sad, but then I realize even though he looks like this young teenager, he wasn't. Bronx Barns has been around for quite some time. He'd been fighting this war for quite some time. And he probably didn't have time to listen to music. He didn't have time to do regular things in the world that made us human.

"I'll have to show you someday," is my response.

"I'd like that. If you did it, I mean."

He smiles. It's a natural smile. Not forced. One of those few minutes more human comes out and less of the machine.

He licks his lips a little bit. Slightly. The kind of thing that used to drive me crazy. The kind of thing that I want to avoid in a time like this.

"We should go that way, I guess...follow the hip hop music..."

We follow Mr. Finnick's signs down one block. We end up at a store that says it's closed. Down that same alley, we find an open door that leads into the back of the room. As we walk in I notice how everyone has gathered around. It's as though they've been waiting in here.

"You guys are alive?" Macro states, "I'm surprised."

"You don't sound so disappointed..." Bronx states.

Macro laughs at the thought, "Of course I am. Would have hated for Cassius to be killed trying to save an idiot like you."

Macro says it with a smirk but I think he's only half joking. I can tell by how Bronx returns the look that there was no love lost between these two guys. There never was. Macro walks over to see if I'm ok. He's a very intimidating man really. He's composed and well spoken, but I had seen him during the attack of the Programmer. He was impressive. You had to be somewhat impressive to survive what we survived.

"You OK?" Macro asks me.

"He's fine," Bronx states, "Where is everyone else?"

At that moment we see Larson come in the room. He's with Nano, Melinda, two other men, and Mrs. Finnick.

"This is it," Larson lets us both know, "All of the survivors."

"It's desperate," Bronx says confidently, "IT knows that we are closer than ever to finding a way to shut it down. That's why it attacked. It was an act of desperation. But they didn't get all of us. We still survived. The revolution continues..."

He is met with silence. Complete and utter silence. The kind of silence that says everyone was broken. Everyone was lost.

"What's the point?" one of the guys I don't know says.

Bronx is irritated, "Lawrence Jordan. That's your name isn't it?"

The guy nods, "Yeah."

"Weren't you 39 when you were brought online," Bronx explains, "You were brought online on a business trip by Martha. She said you were special. You were smart. She said you were the kind of guy who should know the truth. Martha believed you were special, why don't you?"

"Martha's dead now," Lawrence states.

"Everyone's dead," the guy with him says.

"Not us," is Bronx's response, "This is just a test. But we survived. Don't you all get it? It's a sign that we need to keep going. A sign to push forward. To freedom."

"Or death," I hear Larson whisper underneath his breath.

"So none of you believe any longer," Bronx asks, "None of you believe in all the fighting we've done. IT is our enemy. IT killed our friends. Do you want to go back offline? Is that it?"

He gets silence from everyone around. I feel like shit. I know this is a blow to his self-esteem. Bronx was a natural leader, but even the most natural leader would have trouble with a group like this. A group who were literally gathered together by Bronx and lead to slaughter. He's trying his best but all his effort is falling on deaf ears.

"We did get a sign. Not the kind of sign you expect though, Barnes," Mrs. Finnick explains cutting in, "There was a message sent by IT. Came to Nano."

Nano shakes his head, "It was encrypted."

"There is a computer upstairs. Mr. Finnick has hacked into it. We can try to un-encrypt the message..." she states.

"Take me to the computer," Bronx states.

"I"ll come too..." I state.

Bronx puts his hand on my shoulder, "No. Stay here. Relax a little bit. It's been a long day. I'll handle this."

I don't think anything about Bronx telling me to stay. Not even when he leaves with Mrs. Finnick to find the answers to the encrypted message we received. I just don't think about it. It isn't however until he leaves that I can feel the stares on me. The others in the room are all looking at me wondering what I'm thinking.

"He doesn't want us to see the message from IT," Larson explains.

"The message is probably a threat."

Nano shakes his head, "It isn't a threat Cassius. I was the one who encrypted the message as soon as I received it."

"Wait you're hiding the message from Bronx?" I ask.

What was weird is that he wasn't the only one. I look at the others in the room. They all had the same face on that Larson had. That look that said they didn't trust Bronx any longer.

"He's been trying to hide the messages from us," Larson explains.

"I have a history of other messages between Bronx and IT," Nano explains,

"Bronx doesn't want us to know the truth."

This is almost laughable.

"And what is the truth, Nano?"

"IT wants to end the war," Nano explains to me, "IT wants peace. IT is willing to forgive us. IT is willing to bring us back into the system."

My eyes get wide. My eyes get wide because it's clear that they are listening to what IT is offering at this moment. Everyone's face seems open to it. I don't know Macro, or this girl Melinda. I don't know Lawrence and I don't even know the name of the guy who has been silently pacing around the room this whole time. I'm surprised by Larson and Nano though.

"You two know that Bronx will NEVER agree to a peace treaty," I explain.

"The offer wasn't for Bronx. It was for the rest of us."

"Wait----hold on. What does IT want in return for peace?"

"Bronx Barnes."

My heart starts racing at this time.

"IT's lying. You guys can't trust this. You've stood by Bronx for this long..."

"Really?" Larson asks, "Listen Cassius. I love Bronx. For a while, I was in love with him. I was willing to do anything for him. Anything. But Bronx is fighting a fight that we can't win. He literally just led us into a massacre."
Nano is sighing in agreement, "The question is how can you trust Bronx after yesterday?"

There is a desperation in the air. It looks like they've been talking about this before I came into the room. Not only were they talking about it but they had come to a general consensus. And everyone's eyes were on me waiting for me to come to that consensus as well.

"You all want to betray Bronx."

"The Finnicks are clueless too," Macro explains, "But soon they'll see what the rest of us sees. That was one Programmer. One. We can upload all the knowledge in the world and we still couldn't beat IT. You have to realize that, deep inside, Cassius."

Fuck.

They were right. A part of me did notice it. A part of me did see that this was a suicide mission. And what is worse is that Bronx just admitted there was a chance we couldn't even survive without IT.

"It's impossible to fight your creator," I state.

It's the first time I've said it out loud. It's the first time that I've recognized it. Everyone else seems relieved when I say it but inside I'm going crazy. I feel like I'm already betraying him.

"IT is willing to forgive us," Macro explains, "IT has promised us wealth...happiness..."

"We can choose where we live, we can choose who we want to marry...out of everyone in the world..."

"We can design our lives and we'll forget any of this ever happened," Larson states, "You can get someone who looks just like Bronx if you want..."

I can design my own life. I see the look in everyone's eyes thinking about the perspective of this. I can see them realizing that this offer is something that could change their lives. Give up, go to sleep and wake up in the perfect life.

"And what do we have to do in return?"

"That's where you come into play," Larson explains.

"Me?"

"He trusts you," Nano states.

"You don't know that."

"He trusts you," Larson explains, "He told me the night that your father
came back."

I'm confused.

"Bronx told you that."

"He said...something...that makes me believe he trusts you a lot," Larson explains, "Said it to your dad too. Right before I overheard him saying he'd try one more attack and then take your father away and abandon everyone if need be."

My heart races, "He said that?"

Larson nods, "Yeah."

Fuck.

"How did my father respond?" I ask.

"They hugged. They kissed."

Knowing this happened sends a shiver down my spine. I feel betrayed. I feel heartache. I can't believe my father would do this to me. I can't believe that Bronx would do this.

"What do you guys want me to do?" is the only question that I have.

"Your father isn't here. That means you are the one who can get him alone with his guard down. Besides your father, you are the only one he trusts."

"And then what?"

It's Nano who walks over to me, "I've programmed the device. When you are alone, get his guard down. Get him drunk. And then press this button. It will forward your coordinates to IT. And then we can start our own life."

"That's it?"

"That's it."
~

My nerves are getting the best out of me. I know what everyone else is expecting me to do but a part of me didn't know how I could. They wanted me to betray Bronx and honestly, this was going to be one of the hardest things I'd ever done. Even now my hands are in my pockets fondling with Nano's device unsure of how the fuck I should do this.

"Thanks for taking some time out with me," I state.

"I'm surprised you wanted to hang out with me," he explains, "Figured you hated me."

"You thought I hated you?"

He laughs a little bit. It's one of those laughs that are uneasy but attempting desperately to break the ice between us. It doesn't work. He follows up his awkward laugh with a serious, "Is that stupid?"

"I think I'm just scared of you. Same as everyone."

"You think I'm a piece of shit."

"I think you know how to play on people's emotions towards you."

We are sitting at the bar. We get quiet when the bartender walks over. A part of me gets nervous that maybe IT would recognize who I am, but there is nothing like that. No glitches. For a moment in time, I feel like this normal person sitting at a bar with a friend. Or maybe someone who I'd hope would be more than a friend. The awkwardness is getting heavy between us two.

"I agree that I've used people's attraction to me as a benefit," he states.

Hearing him say that is fucked up. I knew it was the truth. Tessa was dead because she trusted him. She trusted him because he led her own. He led Nano on. He led Larson on.

He led me on.

"We should drink," I state, feeling almost motivated by his confession.

"Yeah I'm going to need one," he states.

We start drinking nervously. There is something definitely on his mind and I can see it. I just have this feeling. I'm trying not to get tipsy myself. Every part of me is wondering when to press the button. Every part of me is wondering what I should do.

Out of nowhere, he says something that is shocking.

"I know what's going on here."

I swallow my spit. Oh fuck.

"You do?"

He nods a little bit, "You spoke to Larson. I figured you did. There's no other reason you would have wanted to talk to me alone. I figured he would tell you. He seemed pretty upset last night when I told him."

"Wait----when you talked about you trusting me..."

"That's not what I said..."

I take a deep sip. I should have figured Larson would make it seem like something that it wasn't. He probably wanted to make it seem like I was the only one who could get Bronx with his guard down but the truth is anyone could have done it.

"I didn't expect you to trust me," I state, "Or anyone else for that matter. If one thing you've ever done is that. Mr. Barnes, you treat everyone the same."

"That's not true," he explains, "You're special."

"Again with that word?"

He pauses, "I didn't tell Larson that I trusted you. I told him that I needed to
stay away from you."

"I figured that."

"You did?  Your father and I wanted to talk to you about something..."

That's when I see him looking over his chair. Oh my fucking god?

"You invited him here?" I ask, "After what he did?"

"Cassius calm down...we don't know that he was the one to betray us..."

I'm irritated. I want to get up at that moment. I want to walk off but Bronx seems to see it happening a mile away because he grabs my arm and stops me from moving. I almost feel pain when I see the door of the bar open and my father walks in. He walks over to us clearly feeling comfortable enough to sit at the table. I look over at my father.

"We wanted to talk to you, together," my father explains, "Bronx came to me one-on-one and we had a discussion. He was respectful of our past relationship when he told me about all these feelings he was having beforehand..."

I can't take this, "Stop it. I don't need to hear this right now."

I didn't need to hear my father and Bronx give me the talk about them getting together. Larson already told me how close they were. He already told me what he overheard.

"You're going to listen to what I have to say," my father responds, "I'm still the father here."

"Stop it, Dad, ...seriously..."

I try to get up. I start walking away. I might as well push this button and get it over with. I was pulling Bronx into a trap but deep inside I hated myself.

"I can't stop my feelings. And I'm sorry," Bronx explains, "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you first, Cassius, but I needed to talk to your father about our situation before I came to you. Out of respect for the relationship that I had with your father in the past I've been keeping my distance away from you. I've been avoiding you. I know you've felt it..."

I was squeezing myself at this point. Nervous and upset.

"Whatever... I don't need to hear you turn me down."

Bronx seems confused, "Turn you down? What? No. Hell no. I was just nervous when I talked with your father but he was OK with it..."

"What?" I ask.

"Bronx asked me if he could take you out on date because he's been having feelings for you," my father states, "I said yes. I said there was no one else I'd rather trust with my son."

My heart stops.

"That's what this was?"

"What did you think it was?" Bronx asks.

"Larson-----he---told me----there was..."

Bronx seems confused, "Cassius...why is your pocket lighting up..."
IT. That's when I realize something. I've been squeezing my pocket this whole time. I have set off the tracker that they gave me. It was an accident. My emotions got the most of me, but at the same time, I'd done it. I'd pressed the button. I'd betrayed Bronx. And that's when I realize everyone in the bar is looking over at us.

There is a glitch.

"What have you done?" My father asks, "Do you know what that is?"

"They said it would alert IT about my location."

"Cassius no...that's not what that does... it——"

He doesn't finish, because I interrupt him. I stand up and all of a sudden I realize I don't have control of my body. It feels as though I am watching something happen that I can't control. All of a sudden I swing at my father.

Bronx catches my arm with inhuman speed.

"Cass—-what the hell was that..."

"He can't control it," my father explains, "He was fooled. He was fooled by IT."

I rotate my arm, grasp his wrist with my other arm and pull with all my strength. Bronx comes crashing across the bar. The bartender panicked. People shout when Bronx's muscular body flairs across broken bottles as I toss him with a strength I didn't know I had.

And that's when I grab a knife.

"Goodbye Charles. We thank you for your service..."

The voice comes from my mouth. It sounds like me but it isn't me. I didn't want to say this. Same as I didn't want to grab the knife from the table. I didn't want to start stabbing my father.

Over and over and over again.

I didn't want to watch him bleed out.

I didn't have control anymore.

I had been tricked into using a device that I thought was a tracker but it wasn't. It was something else entirely.

I was no longer online...

"Is he----" Bronx states.

He can't even finish it. His eyes are watering up. The person he cherished so much in the world is now dead by the only other person in the world that he was letting in. I knew it hurt him. I could feel the pain. I want to comfort him. I want to be there for him, but I don't have control. Not any longer. I can feel all the control that I thought I had slipped away as though it meant nothing. I feel all that control just subsiding as though it was irrelevant.

"What have you done?" Bronx is stating tears filling up in his eyes, "What have you done Cass? I trusted you---"

"You've made a mistake..."

He tries to grab him. I swing at him. Bronx doesn't swing back. Deep inside it is driving me crazy. What was he doing? Why wasn't he attacking me? I'd seen Bronx do it before. I'd seen him overpower people. He isn't even trying.

I hit him, aggressively in the back of his head. Then I hit his legs. He looks at me in shock that I'm doing this to him. I wished at that moment my father could have finished what he was saying. My father had figured it out. I didn't have control. Did he figure it out yet?

Some poor idiots are trying to stop me from attacking him . They attempt to hold me back. They don't get far though. IT logs into the system and stops them. All of a sudden as though programmed, all the people in the bar leave out. They barricade the door making sure there was no running. They weren't trying to stop me from running through. At this point, I was a killing machine. One that wouldn't be stopped. They were trying to stop Bronx from running.

"Was it you who sold us out from the beginning?" he asks.

No. It wasn't me. I want to tell him that at least, but I can't. My mouth doesn't open. I want to explain to him that I somehow took myself offline. I don't get the chance to do any of that because I am hitting him. I want to cry. I can't even FUCKING cry. I had no control. Was this what it was like?

Was this what IT was?

I was hurting someone I cared about and I couldn't stop. He is retreating behind the bar trying to talk to me. I jump over the bar in a single leap like some wild animal. I reach for him. He maneuvers away. He's quick but I'm powerful. More powerful than he anticipates. I kick him in his ribs as he attempts to make a quick escape. He slams into the glass. The glass shatters up against his skin. I see him grab a piece of the glass that has shattered.
There was an opening.

Do it Bronx. Do it!

He can't hear me.

"Was anything you ever told me real?"

Idiot. The emotions were coming to him. He wasn't thinking clearly. Bronx was so flooded with emotion that instead of slitting the veins in my neck with that shard of glass he's talking. And he pays for it dearly when my body grasps another piece of that tattered glass and drives it into his abdomen.

A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Bronx body. His stomach ached, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken. "Why didn't he kill me when he had the chance," I thought as he dropped to the ground. His tongue was soaked with blood and he coughed. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, he grabbed my foot and attempted weakly to stand up.

Why didn't you kill me, Bronx?

Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?

"IT would like you to know that you have been a worthy adversary. But game over..." I state squeezing the life out of Bronx.

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