What is the price of a life? Elian would give almost anything to restore his father’s health, but the thought was clouded by apprehension. The image hadn’t displayed any kindness, its presence in his room was only to further its own selfish reasons. And what would he be willing to give up? Would he accept public embarrassment and shame? Would he give up his own body, or even his life? These thoughts left his mind scattered, all the while the image smiled and tapped the pen on the notebook, no longer holding up its fingers as if to snap them. Tap, tap, tap. “If you are ready Elian, let’s… practice.” The apprehension boiling inside him intensified. “What? What do you mean practice?” Tap, tap, tap. “Well, we can’t just rush to the main event. We need to ease into it. Lets try a little practice run first.” He detected a sense of satisfaction from the image, and its smile widened as it spoke. “Its truly admirable how you’ve stuck to your principles this whole time. But, that’s just not what we are looking for. its too clean and easy, so, lets add a little bit of… drama.” Noticing that he was gripping the edges of his bed, he made an effort to relax. It didn’t help, the tension in the room was too thick now. Resting its chin on one hand, the image leaned forward, seeming to almost bulge through the screen. “Do you remember the first scenario I presented to you? A miner who wanted you to accept his sacrifice in order to support his family. I asked you to think about how you would act, but you refused.” He stayed silent. “Elian, how can we talk about helping your father if you won’t even play along. So, lets try that scenario again.” His body felt like it was made of stone. He refused to speak, or maybe he just couldn’t. “Elian? Are you OK? its just a game, don’t be so tense”. The image’s voice was flippant, and he could feel a teasing edge to its words. “Just a game?.” He hadn’t meant to whisper the words, but his jaw was so tight that it hurt. Anger flushed him, unlocking his muscles. Now he spoke more loudly, voice hissing as it pushed through clenched teeth. “Just a game? What the fuck do you mean just a game? My father is dying, and you want me to react for your fucking stream.” A red tide washed over his eyes, and he tore himself up from the side of his bed. He pushed himself forward until he was standing over the image, and it pulled back. But still it smiled. A small voice in his mind was telling him that his reaction was exactly what it wanted, but it felt quiet and distant. Nonetheless, he wrestled with himself, forcing his head to turn away, to ignore the mocking face of the image. The red tide ebbed slightly, and he took a few steps away from the image, turning his back. He forced himself to analyse the situation, to find a way to navigate this. He knew anger would not help him. He breathing had become rapid and shallow, as if he had been sprinting, so he took a deep breath. He unclenched his fists, pushed his shoulders back down. Tension still lingered, but that was fine. Again he had lost control of his emotions, and it made him feel powerless. But, maybe that was the point, maybe he couldn’t get what he needed if he refused to play the image’s game. The thought stung on a fundamental level, but, he wasn’t doing any of this for himself. He made a decision, he would play along.
Raising his hands up, Elian forced a smile onto his face and turned. “Apologies, for my outburst.” Pushing through the tension that still boiled inside, he walked calmly back to sit on his bed. Paying close attention to his body language, he straightened his spine, pushed his shoulders back and let a hint of a smile settle on his face. According to the image, this was all a game. Now he would choose to play and take back control, no longer a pawn to be moved freely. Readying himself, he spoke. “Alright, lets get back on track. You wanted me to give you a real answer, right? What I would do if I was asked to accept someone’s sacrifice?”. The image nodded, no longer tapping the pen on the notepad. Now he sensed intent in it, the air of mockery having vanished. This irked him, he had been played so easily. Now that he was giving it what it wanted, it was finally treating him like a person. “Well,” he drew the word out, eying the image as he did, but it didn’t react. “I would…” What would he actually do? He wanted to make light of the situation, but he guessed that would result in the interview breaking down. “I would do as they asked. I would scan the vein, get the commission, and support their family.” He still didn’t like it, but he would push through, giving the most obvious answer, without trying to reflect on the morality. The image wrote in the notebook, then looked up and nodded to him. It remained serious, clearly satisfied with the direction the interview had taken. “Thank you for your answer, Elian. How about the scenario with the shuttle, and the man guarding it? How would you act?” “I would incapacitate the man, then take him with me as I take the shuttle to save my team”. A note, a nod, and the image continued to ask him questions.
Elian answered all of the image’s questions quickly and directly. The sense of tension in the room had abated as the interview continued, and Elian relaxed gradually. This changed when the image suddenly looked up from the notepad and said, “Thank you Elian, we are now done with the practice scenarios. Your answers have been satisfactory. Let’s continue to the final scenario.” His hands wanted to clench, but instead, he placed them on his legs and straightened his back. He smiled as way of answering. The image fixed him with an unwavering gaze. “Your father is sick with the blues. I estimate he has six weeks left to live. That time will be excruciatingly unpleasant.” Grief mixed with helplessness as the image continued, its voice direct and emotionless. “You cannot afford the necessary treatment, and your chances to gain access to such are next to hopeless. You have two realistic chances. Either you make it to the Reseed, or we make a deal.” Elian used the full force of his will to maintain a calm facade as the image raised its hand into the air, fingers poised to snap. “I will save your father, right now. But, there is a price.”
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Pictures appeared around the image, floating to line up on either side of it. Elian counted ten pictures, then realised they were actually live views when the images started to move. Each view showed a family, two parents, mostly a man and a woman, with one or more children of various ages. Each seemed to be of families in their homes, and showed them doing normal daily things, such as cooking or playing. The colours in the views seemed muted, except for the first one to the left of the image, in which the colours were clear and vivid. In it, a woman and a man stood over a cot, in which a baby lay, waving it’s feet in the air, laughing up at them. An ominous feeling filled Elian. The image stretched its arms out, “This is the price. Ten lives, ten fathers.” The ominous feeling spilled through him, disgust joining it. His eyes must have displayed this, as the image calmly informed him, “The lives of these men are forfeit, they used them as collateral in various deals. If they do not die here, they will die soon anyway.” The nonchalance of this statement threatened to drag a deep anger up in him, but he was too shocked and confused to truly internalise what was happening. “I, what… You want me to agree to the deaths of these people, and in return you will cure my father? That’s…” He couldn’t find any words to describe the situation. Pawns, that’s all people were to this image. Even so, he refused to believe it was real, it had to be illegal to just take lives so casually. The image draw its hands back, and again held up its fingers. “So, that is the price. But, you had so much trouble with the scenarios the first time around, so I decided to help you with this one.” Its face displayed no emotion, dead eyes still locked on his. “Every five seconds that you spend thinking about this choice, one father from a family will die.” A serpent’s smile crept onto its face. “So, if you can’t make the hard decision, all you have to do is wait”. A five second timer appeared above each view.
A thousand thoughts overwhelmed Elian’s mind. Anger, disgust, disbelief, betrayal and countless emotions he couldn’t identify swirled and spiked within him. A protective part of him insisted it was all a setup. A small and quiet part of him whispered that these people were already marked for death, but he could save his father, simply by doing nothing. As the timer above the first view hit zero, his eyes unwillingly snapped onto it. The man had been smiling down at his child, radiating a feeling of love, one hand around the woman beside him. Instantly, the life left him. There was no warning, no visual indication that anything had happened to him, he just died. He dropped straight downwards, crumpling like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The woman beside him started to scream, though no sound came from the view. Her face was contorted and her mouth was wide as she bent down to hold the man’s face, and he sensed her anguished screams reverberating through the hauntingly silent image. The baby began to cry, startled by the noise. The reality of the situation crashed down on Elian. The pain he saw was visceral and true, and he knew without a shred of doubt that the man was really dead. Something inside his mind snapped. His vision blurred, as though he watched through tears, though he wasn’t crying. He felt lightheaded, shock and terror stiffening his muscles. The timer above the second view hit zero. Unable to avert his eyes, he watched as a man chased his daughter around a table in a small apartment. The man had been laughing, eyes warm, face beaming with joy. Then, he dropped, body hitting the ground like a toppling pillar. His head bounced off the floor, and he slid slightly as his momentum stopped. His daughter hadn’t even noticed before the timer on the third view started to run down.
Time seemed to stop as Elian’s mind attempted to internalise what was happening. He tried to tell himself that it was out of his hands, that the image would have killed these men regardless. But he could have instantly stopped it, he could have given them more time with their families. Maybe that was worth days, but what if it was worth years? The baby would have no memories of its father, had he taken that? His heart and soul ached, and a deeply disturbed feeling carved into him. All of his own pain swept through him. He had been powerless to help his father, who was sick because he had needed to provide for Elian. His mother was gone, taken from him by a cruel twist of fate. His own life was gray and joyless. He tried to find rage within himself, rage towards this image who was manipulating and torturing him. Anger towards life, which just mercilessly took from him. Resentment of the existence that Rodite offered, of the gray reality of living in the darkside city. They all slipped from him like sand through open fingers. He wished he was anywhere, anyone else. He wanted it to stop. It was too much, he felt like his entire being was going to break open. The image above the third timer hit zero, but though it was in his field of vision, he couldn’t see what happened. No. It was wrong, it couldn’t be allowed to continue. No. The timer above the fourth image was counting down. Four seconds. No. Three seconds. He had to move, he had the power to stop this. Two seconds. No. No. One second. No. No. No. No… “NO”. His voice burst from him, a scream of undiluted primal emotion. His throat felt like he had swallowed glass. He forced out a whisper. “No. No more. Stop.” He found himself on all fours, forehead pushed against the floor, trembling as his mind reeled. A silence stretched, what felt like an eternity, but in reality was less than a minute. He sensed the image standing. The image’s legs appeared in his peripheral vision. Then, it bent down beside him. He wanted to retreat, to run and shout, but he was utterly frozen. It lowered its head, face level with Elian’s. Then, it whispered, “What I said about your mother is true, Elian. Maybe I’ll tell you the full story some time.” Something splintered in his mind. “It’s a shame we couldn’t come to an agreement today, but hopefully we will have a chance to speak sometime in the future. Thank you for your time. Goodbye.” The image disappeared, leaving the room dark, cold and silent.