Chapter 18: The Ultimatum

A duel does not need to be physical. It does not need to be decided in the moment. A duel can continue forever, wavering between sides, unclear in destination. What is important is that it began.

“That was an excellent speech,” Anders said. He was never shy with his opinion.

“It was honest,” Amahle replied. She disliked flattery.

The office was unusually sunny, a result of the parting clouds outside. Anders had designed the room so that it would never be blinding by diverting excess light to heating. The weather had the unintended consequence on the citizens outside of giving them more energy to express their outrage. It was difficult to hear them this high up, but they were yelling.

“Amahle,” Anders sighed. It was an impressive feat to get Anders to sigh in such a fashion. The last time he did so, he was a teenager informed of his parents' deaths. “Why have you done this?”

“The same reason you do anything. It was what I had to do.”

Anders stared for quite some time. “I suppose that is why. I understand why I feel the need. I understand everyone. The barista in the cafe, I understand why they might take too long to make a drink. It’s laziness, safety, and an instinct to conserve energy. I know why world leaders threaten war. They are paranoid, prideful, and short-sighted in their victories. I do not understand why, out of all of the inventions I have brought, you would take such issue with this. It’s immortality, Amahle. It’s what humans have wished for since the day they learned of death! It is not reincarnation or transmigration, as comforting as those thoughts might be. This is real, tangible eternity! Why do you not see it as I do?”

Amahle did not sit down. She did not focus on anything but Anders’ words. Her expression remained neutral, a habit that sometimes drew unwanted criticism. In the back of her mind, she recalled their first conversation. It wasn’t much different than this—two people unwilling to empathize. She didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

“Anders, I did not ask to become immortal. Even if someone does, they don’t know what they are really asking for. They don’t know the risks.”

“It is immortality. Any criticisms are simply the worries of flawed, uneducated people.”

“What did the update mean, then?” Amahle asked pointedly. “Immortality with a clause like that is not the immortality you hope for. It’s not autonomous. Someone else is in control.” Amahle was angry, but her anger was justified. For some time, her indestructible life had been held in the stone hands of an arrogant leader, and she knew those hands would eventually crumble under greed and selfishness. She wasn’t immortal. She was closer to death than most.

“I gave you immortality as a gift. What billions of humans and every lifeform to ever come into existence wished to have. I hoped to see you reach the same conclusion I had reached: to live forever is good. When I saw that you still did not agree, I realized I had made a mistake. You did not appreciate what I had given you. I do not know why, but your thoughts are clouded.”

Without the Perma Tech installed in her, Amahle would have burst a blood vessel in her clenched jaw. This was as close to pain as she could experience. The sheer condescension Anders hurled her way was enough to remind her of what migraines felt like. She repeated to herself that she could not let this go the same way as before.

“You’re right. I didn’t reach the same conclusion as you. To be given life with an owner is not desirable. I may be immortal by most means, but I have to wonder if you will kill me, or only do so briefly.”

“You see me as a villain,” Anders philosophized. Amahle rubbed her eyes.

“You see yourself as a god,” she answered.

“Hm, that may be true. Is that so bad?”

“It is if you are anything other than perfect.”

“Amahle, I have never had any intentions of controlling the lives of Antler customers. I did not have the intention of killing you, either. From my perspective, you have been delaying the release of a technology that can stop the suffering of billions.”

This was problematic. She did not have infinite time here to discuss matters with Anders. The only reason she was here at all was because Anders dictated it. He was confident that any issue could be worked out with his superior mind. That assumption was what caused this standstill. Amahle realized something she should have thought of long ago.

“Anders, do you have Perma Tech installed?”

The CEO of Antler Industries looked at Amahle as a king looks to a rebellious knight. Amahle had assumed previously that he might have undergone the procedure, but Anders was a cautious man, and as far as Amahle knew, she was the only data point.

“I do not.”

“Do you plan on getting it?” Amahle prodded.

“I do.”

“When you do, you will be the only one to experience a good immortality. You will be in control of your life and death. You are free from the dangers of nature and are subject only to your own whims. That is what I want. That is what everyone wants, but you will be the only one to get it.”

Anders stood up, which caused Amahle to take a step back in instinct. He lifted his arms and stretched.

“I have heard since I was a child that for there to be happiness, there must be sadness. I have heard otherwise smart people say that if everyone were happy, no one would be happy. Such idiotic things have been hurled around by humans. Weapons of ignorance. Humans have always been disappointing, Amahle.” Anders settled back to his statuesque posture, his eyes grim. “You were someone I thought I understood. You were disappointing, too. Everyone has such fantastical worries. If I promised humans a day free from stress, many would reject it. They would have no good reason. The promise goes past their understanding, so they believe it must be bad. Humans are hardly trustworthy with their own wellbeing.”

“People may be flawed, but to pretend you aren’t is worse. How can you promise that you won’t change?” asked Amahle.

“You see me as someone claiming to be a god, but I see the same right now,” Anders responded. Amahle didn’t know how to respond. “What would you prefer? Would you like for humans to suffer and die until you can come up with a solution? Is that what your moral code tells you?”

“Anders, you don’t care about the suffering of humans.” Anders did not make any motion to disagree. “You want immortality to exist for your permanence.” Amahle laughed, which surprised herself and Anders. “Oh, I see why Nathaniel said it was depressing now.”

“Why?” Anders questioned.

“Well, everyone knows their achievements will be lost to time. Their fame will, someday, fade. Their wealth and pride are temporary. We all deal with this in a way. I see now that, more than anything, you’re afraid of being forgotten.” It was Anders’ turn to be speechless, so Amahle continued. “I don’t want people to suffer, Anders. I realize that the delay of Perma Tech has drawbacks, but if it’s released, and people accept it and use it, humanity will suffer even more. It will become an immortal suffering, under the rule of the one in charge. Even if you are incorruptible, you are not insurmountable. Someone may take your spot, and they may have different intentions. It would be a terrible world.”

Anders furrowed his eyebrows, an action he did so infrequently that even at his age, there were no wrinkles to be seen. He was unaccustomed to such stress, to anything resembling this.

“What do you want, Amahle?”

Amahle finally felt some weight lift off of her shoulders.

“You’ve noticed that the public opinion has turned on you, but I know it isn’t set in stone. This is only a temporary madness. I only started it for one reason. Don’t release Perma Tech.” Amahle saw the expression of Anders sour, but he did not speak up. “Release the information on how it works to the public. Let everyone learn from it. With the promise of eternal life, it won’t take long for them to find a way to fix it. Once they do, you can be considered the pioneer of such an invention.”

Anders sat back down and placed his clasped hands in front of his forehead.

“When I hired you, the quality I valued in you was honesty,” Anders said.

“I recall.”

“Right now, I do not see honesty. I see someone, under the guise of altruism, wanting to craft the world to her design.”

“Anders, that is exactly what you are doing.”

“Yet I can admit such a thing, Amahle Imada. I am the only honest one in this room. I am well aware that I can influence the world with a single word, a single invention. I also know that once I have said it, it is the responsibility of humans to judge my actions. You claim to be clairvoyant, but you know as little as anyone else. You want your world to be true, so just say it!”

“What I am trying to do is let humanity decide, instead of tricking them!” Amahle yelled back.

“Only a narcissist would see it in such a way. Would you prevent the release of medicine because humanity doesn’t understand it? A medicine you know to be effective?” Anders asked in an increasingly accusatory tone. Amahle had never heard him speak this way, at this volume, with this expression. “No, because you realize that sometimes, a leader has to act on behalf of his people.”

Amahle held back her urge to scream. “I do realize that, Anders. I am going to act on behalf of humanity. If you don’t release the information to Perma Tech, I will make sure the public turns on you, forever. If you go along, you can revel in your finite importance for as long as you desire. It’s your choice.”

As dusk approached outside, the roaring of the citizens only intensified. The streets were crowded with normally quiet people outraged over the news they had heard. Though efforts were made by the authorities to quell the spread of Amahle’s video, it was impossible to keep it out of the hands of the curious. Everyone knew what had happened.

Down in the loudest section of Echo City, I was waiting. It had been longer than expected, but traffic was at such a level that the only mode of transportation was on foot. I kept an eye out through my disguise, hoping that I was able to make the exchange before Amahle was finished. Hadrian had since joined the protesters, deciding it was more fun to chant alongside them. I heard sirens and turned my head. Multiple officers filed into Antler Headquarters, pushing citizens out of the way in the process. Some of them scanned nearby faces, but they weren’t able to distinguish me from just another onlooker.

“What are you wearing?” A voice rang out. For a moment, my adrenaline spiked. I flicked my eyes to Henrietta.

“What do you think? I’m not even supposed to be here!” I responded. She nearly smiled at the sight of me, but Henrietta needed more than that to express any positive emotion.

“Okay, so what do you want to give me?” she asked. I was careful with my call earlier, now knowing the capabilities of Antler. The details I could give were sparse.

“This,” I responded while pulling out my phone.

“This. Your phone?”

“The chip inside it. It’s-” I swiveled my head and leaned closer to Henrietta, who clearly did not like the maneuver. “It’s Perma Tech,” I whispered.

“I assume this isn’t a gift.”

“No. I’m not telling you to get this into the right hands, but as long as only Anders is in control of it, it’s in the wrong hands. You can hold this over his head. You can make it public knowledge.”

Henrietta put the phone away, clearly not curious to check if I was telling the truth.

“Nathaniel-”

“Shh!” I interrupted. She shook her head.

“Why are you doing this?” Henrietta asked. I didn’t expect her to ask that question out of the thousands she had to choose from.

“It’s how we can stop the release of the product!” I explained quickly.

“No, not that. Why are you doing this? What are you doing this for?”

I paused, puzzled by her question. Before I could answer, a figure exited the building. The protesters immediately became silent, as if the air had been ripped from their lungs. Henrietta turned to see what I was staring at, and in that moment, I ran.