Ruat Caelum

by Katzen Peterson 

         New Baltimore. December 18, 2178 AD.

        Rain splattered against the glass tube of the elevator, the sky a foreboding mix of bruised greys. Tam pressed his forehead against the inside glass as he gathered his thoughts. What a mess… What was supposed to be his last job should’ve been simple enough: go back in time, take out the target, come back, and collect his freedom. Now all of that was down the drain. While he felt a mix of emotions, regret was not one of them. Anger and betrayal on the other hand coursed through his artificial veins. He took a deep breath, air rushing into his biomechanical lungs, and closed his eyes.

~~~~

        Herculaneum. December 18, 78 AD. 

      The night, though chilly, had been unseasonably warm from the rain earlier. Every so often, the moon would peek through the dense covering of clouds. Tam had been following the girl for a while as she drank and mingled with others during the festivities. It was the celebration of Saturnalia, he’d briefly learned about it during his Latin download hours ago. He lost sight of her as she ducked into a taberna, his guess was for another refill of wine, though she seemed already tipsy when he’d first caught sight of her. He waited, with the patience of a feral cat. 

        She emerged with a group of girls, a wooden cup in hand, her cheeks rosy from alcohol, steps uncoordinated. The light from a nearby shop lit up her face. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen, maybe sixteen, years old. Tam felt a moment of concern. She was his target? There had to be some kind of mistake. She was so young. He kept an eye on her as she talked and laughed with the other girls as he brought up the missive. His employer had simply said that her death was necessary in preventing the start of the Ignis War, by a terrorist named Collin Dart, but didn’t go into further details. Only that she was the earliest known ancestor, based on mitochondrial DNA, and that the whole lineage needed to be wiped out. Looking at the girl, Tam had his doubts but after this job, he’d finally have his freedom. Focus, Tam. Focus.

        He watched as she started to pull away from the others, her hand on her stomach, the universal sign of nausea. The group didn’t seem to take much notice as she wandered away. It was now or never. He followed behind, on the opposite side of the street through the thinning crowd, his watchful eyes never leaving the back of her head. She stumbled into an alley, he crossed the street. 

~~~~

        The elevator came to a gentle stop, a bell sounded, and the doors slid open. Tam stepped into the empty lobby. It was late, most of the Gershwin Tower’s employees had left for the evening. The yellow glow of the lights against the deep reds, golds, and creams of the gaudy interior reminded Tam of the robes and togas, the decorations of the festival from the night before. The air inside was cool, fragrant with the scent of cinnamon spice. Faux green garland wreaths decorated the windows. A large green pine tree covered in silver tinsel, baubles, and lights sat in the corner. Tis the season. Tam took the hallway on the left, walking thoughtfully, passing mahogany doors and offices on both sides. His steps were brisk, bounding with purpose.

        At the next junction, he took another left. For the first time in a long time, he felt good. He felt free. Was this how freedom worked? The ability to make one’s own choices, regardless of the consequences, was beautiful. At the end of the hall was a smaller lobby, decorated like the main lobby area. He stopped at the receptionist’s desk, surprised to see there was anyone still there. The man looked up from his screen, surprised as well to see Tam.

        “Oh, hey. Mr Gershwin wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow,” the young man smiled up at him, eyeing his dark colored cloak and toga. He hadn’t had the chance to change his clothes yet.

        Tam returned the smile, “yeah, I know but I wanted to share the good news in person. Is Mr Gershwin in?”

        “He’s still here, something about wanting to watch the game. Go sports ball,” the man rolled his eyes, his words laced with sarcasm. “I’ll be leaving in a few minutes, would you like me to go ahead and buzz you in?”

        Tam nodded, “if you would please, I’d really appreciate it.” Tam glanced up at the clock on the wall, 6:56. “But, don’t tell him I’m coming, I want it to be a surprise.”

~~~~

        He jogged across the street and paused at the alley, drawing his gun and proceeding with efficient caution; as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he realized she was nowhere to be seen. Confused, he lowered his guard, eyes scanning around him. Then he felt it, the cold and sharp blade of a knife at his back. It wouldn’t kill him, but it could do some damage to his internal workings. He held up his hands, surrendering to the situation. A hand reached up, grabbing his gun from his grip. Tam was impressed. This was the first time in 86 years that someone had ever caught him. He heard his captor toss the gun away from them. 

        “Turn around,” whispered a feminine voice, “slowly.” He did as she commanded. Was this how it felt when he did this to his targets? He’d never felt the satisfaction of watching the lights leave their eyes, but he could never kill them from behind. It was something that felt cowardly. He stared down at her, the girl who had outsmarted him. She stared back at him, her eyes reflecting familiarity. “So, it is you…”

        He balked at this. How could she possibly know him? In what world or timeline would she have ever seen him before? “Wha-? How?” He stammered, frowning down at her. He had been so careful to not let her see him. 

        She smiled up at him, raising her blade to just under his sternum. In a calm and even tone, she replied, “my goddess sent me visions of you and what fate would await me this night.” He grimaced as she pressed the blade against him. The thought of anything sending her visions sounded insane to him, but perhaps… If she had caught him… “You were sent to kill me, were you not?”

        He nodded, glancing from her eyes, down to the blade, then to her eyes again. It would be so easy to take the blade from her and finish the job. Yet, something within him wanted to hear what she had to say. “Yes, I was sent to kill you.”

        “Why?” She demanded. He could feel her rage boiling inside of her body, a kettle about to whistle. She sighed in disgust and pushed him away from her, “do you think that killing me will stop him? Where you’re from? Because it won’t.” The girl took a step back in frustration. How did she know?

        Tam put his hands down, adjusting his toga and cloak, “I don’t understand, how do you know any of this?”

        Still holding the dagger, gripping the handle until her knuckles turned white, “I told you this, my goddess sends me visions of moments yet to come. Moments that I’ll never see in lands I’ll never visit. Moments long after I’m gone from this world.” The girl paused, looking into his eyes. A strange feeling overcame him. “Man who is not man, man made of metal, listen closely. My death here will not stop whatever it is you’re trying to stop, it will cause it.”

        He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

        “My goddess showed me this, please, listen.” She closed her eyes for a moment, as if she herself were listening. “You have two choices: test my blood and let me live, so that one day, my descendent will stop your war. Or, kill me, and the war will kill millions.” She opened her eyes, looking into him, “either way, you will die.”

~~~~

        Tam slid through the door as the receptionist got up to leave for the night. This was it, his moment of truth. He walked down the long, dimly lit grey hallway full of doors to Gershwin’s private elevator. His office was on the top floor, a king in his castle. Unapproachable by gods and men alike. He stepped into the elevator. Outside, lightning slashed white cracks across the purple crusted clouds, rain pelting down harder. He would miss nights like this. There was always something comforting about wild electricity, the same kind of electricity that flowed through his body and the humans he served. 

        He knew that once he stepped inside that office, there would be no going back. He could’ve ran, hid, flown off on the next ship headed for Titan to volunteer for research leaving this cruel world behind, but that was the coward’s way out. No, he would forfeit his future for his cause. Mamud, guide me. 

        The elevator stopped with a soft bell, the doors slid open to an ornate but shorter hallway, full of painted portraits of past Gershwins, fine red velvet curtains pulled back with gold ropes, grape vines embossed on the woodwork, tables with vases engulfed in fresh cut flowers. Pompous. His body felt heavy as he reached the door. Deep breath in, slow breath out. Tam gripped the door handle and swung the heavy door open, stepping inside. 

        On the far side of the large room, a man sat up from a couch, peering over the edge. At first, his eyes seemed angry at the intrusion but then softened into relief as he saw who it was that had barged in without warning. Behind him, the wall screen TV was showing what looked like a game being played in zero gravity. Go sports ball. The man quickly sat up, smoothing out his wrinkled button up, tie loose around his neck, shoes beside the couch. The soft lights glinted off of his balding head, a crown of brown streaked with grey on top. 

        “Tam!” The man exclaimed, “what a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow!” He stepped around the couch to greet the android. 

        Tam smiled and nodded, “I know, but I felt like this couldn’t wait, Mr Gershwin.” He took a few more steps inside as Mr Gershwin grabbed his hand, shaking it with a firm grip. 

        “Come, come. Take a seat.” Mr Gershwin walked over to his bar, “how about a drink? Do you drink? I can’t remember. I think it’s robots who can’t drink.” He didn’t bother waiting for a reply, he poured whiskey into two small glasses.

        “We can eat and drink, it makes us more realistic… “ Tam sat down in an armchair, glancing over at Mr Gershwin at the bar. He seemed to be taking more time than what was necessary. “I would’ve been here sooner but, I had to stop and do a few things.”

        Mr Gershwin sauntered over, a glass in each hand, his bare feet padding against the marbled floor. “Of course, I understand. There was no rush to get here.” He set a glass down on the end table beside Tam. “Sorry for the delay, I like mine shaken with a bit of ice. Brings out the notes of the barrel.” He sat back down on the couch. 

        Tam eyed his glass for a moment, picked it up to study it and then set it back down. 

~~~~

        The girl pulled away from his grip on her shoulders as she cried out in pain. “I’m sorry, I-” Tam started, his words failing him. What was this feeling? Dread? Shock? The will to live and to be alive? He stared down at his hands as they balled into fists. “I don’t understand.” How could a simple job go so wrong? He unclenched his hands and watched as she placed her dagger in them. 

        “Man of metal, whatever path you choose, don’t take the drink offered to you when you return,” her voice soft, barely above a whisper, “Mamud, my goddess, will guide you.”

        He stared down at the dagger in his hands, thinking back to all the times he thought he had a choice in life. It had never been a fair choice. Kill this person or face decommission. Kill this person, we’ll set you free, we promise. Kill this person and you’re one step closer to paying off your debts. Jobs, he called them. Taking out the opposition for the wealthy, doing their dirty work for them while their hands remained pristine. What kind of life had that been for him? 

        Choose. Choice. Path. Something in him shifted. For all of his 86 years, he had been a slave to his masters but now, he understood that in this moment, he was his own master. He held the fate of not just this girl, or himself, but also the fate of millions in his hands. Tam closed his hand around the handle of the dagger, “I forgot to ask… What’s your name?”

        She considered the question, “Camellia. May I ask for yours?”

        Tam met her eyes, “I call myself Tam.” With his free hand, he reached over and took her hand in his, gently shaking it, “it was nice to meet you.”

        Camellia tilted her head at him, “it was nice to meet you as well.” Tam raised the dagger as he gripped her hand tighter. She closed her eyes and whispered to him, “Let the heavens fall.”

~~~~

         Tam watched as the man downed his drink, noting the faint grimace across his lips as he finished swallowing. “What brings you in so early? Good news, I hope?”

        “Something like that,” Tam smiled, “not so much for you, though.” 

        Gershwin cleared his throat, “I beg your pardon?” 

        With a fingertip, Tam tipped over his glass. As the dark liquid met the floor, it began to sizzle, an acrid smell greeted him. “Huh, interesting,“ he said, mostly to himself as he turned his gaze back to his employer. The man gulped. “Good news, bad news, you would’ve killed me all the same, huh?” Tam leaned forward in his seat, “nothing to say for yourself?”

        “I’m sorry, I must’ve made a mistake,” Gershwin stumbled over his words, his face shiny with sweat. 

        “Right, right. Mistake.” Tam stood up. “See, I don’t believe that… I think you had this well thought out. I came back extra early so I could do a little homework in your lab downstairs and play around in your private files, mess with your whiskey while you were at lunch.” Tam paused, “do you like it? It’s a nice little paralytic cocktail that I whipped up for the occasion.” Gershwin’s eyes grew wide with fear. Tam drew closer, “but that’s not what’s going to kill you. I am.”

        He sat down on the couch next to him, leaning back, “I watched the future drone footage of Dart getting assassinated before he could set off the bombs and the man that was arrested for it, Monroe. Alec Monroe. And since both of their DNAs are on file, I tested it against Camellia’s DNA. Before you ask, Camellia was the girl you sent me to execute back in Herculaneum. I didn’t kill her,” Tam added, turning to Gershwin with a wink. “She left alive and well that night but she did let me have some of her blood.” He pulled out a dagger from his cloak, the tip brown with dried blood. “I tested the sample, compared the results and wouldn’t you know it, her mitochondrial DNA doesn’t match Dart at all. It did match Monroe.”

        He stood up quickly and bent down to eye level with Gershwin, “you were going to have me kill an innocent girl so Dart could decimate cities, killing millions, all so you could sell your bullshit life saving machines to the survivors at a jacked up price and raise your profits. I read your logistics reports, you sick bastard.” He leaned in close, “And then, if I had succeeded or failed, you were planning to kill me so no one would ever know...” Gershwin gave him a puzzled look. “How did I know? Let’s call it Divine Intervention, shall we?” He smirked as he righted himself, “tomorrow, when the world wakes up, everyone will know. I took the liberty of sending all of it, all of your files and dirty dealings, assassination contracts to the Earth Council. Limited info to all of the major news networks, so everyone will know. And that, Gershwin, will be your legacy. Everyone will know who and what you are.” Tam looked down at the dagger, “we won’t be around to see it though.” 

        Tam tossed the dagger into air, catching it by hilt mid-flip and rammed the blade into Gershwin’s leg, who gurgled in pain. “This is for Camellia!” He lifted the dagger and sunk it into the other leg, “this is for me!”

        He yanked out the dagger and let it drop to the floor as Gershwin whimpered in agony. He turned, making his way to look out of floor to ceiling windows. Outside, the rain was still falling. The world was still turning. He removed the trigger button from a pocket in his cloak. Even if he escaped, he’d always be on the run, never free. Fate would catch up to him. This was his choice, his path, his freedom. Let the heavens fall. He turned around, taking one last look at Gershwin, the monster he was stopping. Mamud, guide me. “And this, this is for all those people you were willing to sacrifice for greed… Ruat caelum.” 

He pressed the button and closed his eyes, the room becoming white all around him.