The Downfall of Prime Alpha One

Hey Reader! If you have not checked out the Downfall Setup article, go give that a read first to give you an idea of how this narrative was formed.

I wake up choking, desperately gasping for a clean breath. Crisscrossing beams of light from Silicate-10A987’s dual suns reveals the sickly green-yellow gas that fills the bedroom. No no no no! I stopped this! Thoughts of denial run through my head despite the physical evidence of stinging eyes and unrelenting coughing.

I stumble out of bed and fall to the floor, having entangled myself in the numerous sheets and blankets during sleep. She always loved nestling under all these damn layers. An oddly comforting memory in a distressing circumstance, considering my wife’s ultimate fate.

I grab a discarded shirt laying on the carpeted floor and cover my mouth and nose. It serves as little protection against the gas. A searing pain starts to burn in my lungs despite the gas seeming thinner down here. I crawl on my belly towards a window, the movement tears the crude stitches on my abdomen. A blossoming red spot quickly starts to stain the stark white bandages that cover the now re-opened bullet wound from the previous night.

I grab the window sill with my free hand and hoist myself to my knees and look out into the courtyard of my apartment complex. I see my neighbours running and stumbling. Choking and dying. The familiar curve of the protective dome high above has been compromised. As if some monstrosity has punched a hole through it, allowing the noxious gas to filter into Prime Alpha One.

I helplessly look on as another section of the dome crumples and breaks open, busted metal and shattered plastics plummet to the ground below. Tracing their descent, I lose sight of the debris as it falls below the skyline far in the distance.

I double over in a nasty fit of coughs, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth now. It’s over. If the damn gas doesn’t kill me, the gravity fluctuations will bring the whole fucking dome down on top of everything.

I struggle to crawl back to the bed. I reach for the nightstand and find my Perfection Police issued service pistol. I slump against the side of the bed, gun in hand. My mind races through the last few months, futilely searching for the moment it all went to shit. . .

---

“I’m stalled out Joe. Not making any progress. Five years with damn near nothing to show for it!” I pounded the dashboard of the Guideline Cruiser in frustration, my knuckles leaving small indentations in the cheap vinyl.

“Hey now Sam, you know what the P.P. pay us, you break it, you buy it.” Joe Beige looked at me with a half smile. He was your everyman. Average, plain. A real background blending kind of guy. His parents must’a had a real sense of humour, giving him a name like that. He’d been my handler going on five years now, my only contact with the bureau. The only person I could be the real Sam Mandalay around that didn’t stare back at me in a mirror.

“Damnit Joe, I’m being serious here! My methods are imperfect.” That last word tasted like ash in my mouth as I spat it out.

Joe sighed heavily, “The methods work, just keep following your training. Nobody said you’d be taking down the Fanatics overnight.”

I shook my head, not wanting to hear Joe’s “tow the line” speech. “I have a plan to get results.”

“Don’t say another word! Knowing you, it’s probably best that I don’t hear anything more. Just be careful Sam, you don’t want to cross a line and go somewhere you can’t come back from.”

“Keep your guys ready, I’ll get you names.” I opened the Cruiser’s passenger door and stepped into the cold night air without another word. Joe’s Cruiser pulled away from the designated pullover section of road, the automated magnets on the Guideline tracks pulling the Cruiser to whatever destination Joe had punched into the navigation system.

I paced around the living room of our apartment, trying to get my shit together before Claire got home. The modified coffee machine sat on the counter, its back cover and parts were strewn next to it. Extraneous parts. How the hell can there be extraneous parts? How could it have been so easy to improve the “perfectly built” coffee machine? My insides were twisted into a knot. This was the only way Sam. You had to do it!

Claire finally came through the front door of our apartment. Even after five years of playing the role of husband I could barely hide the fact that I couldn’t even stand to look at her. Knowing what she’s a part of.

“Honey, what’s the matter? You look so pale!” She noticed the partially disassembled coffee maker on the counter. “What did you do to the coffee maker?”

For once I wasn’t playing a part. I felt sick and nervous as I responded, “I made it. . . better.”

“What? What do you mean better?”

“It brews a pot of coffee 1.834 seconds faster now.” I turned it on to demonstrate. She just watched, mouth slightly agape. A slow smile started to form on her face. I just had to tell her what she wanted to hear and I was in. “I just thought that it wasn’t performing at its proper perfection level. I had to fix it.”

Claire took my hand, she seemed to be vibrating. If her smile was any wider her skin would tear at the corner of her lips. “I know how you feel Sam. I think there are some colleagues of mine that you should meet.”

The next two months went by in a blur. Claire introduced me to one of the other architects she worked with. I had finally established a direct tie to the Fanatics. Can’t believe they’ve infiltrated the very people who are suppose to be safeguarding the knowledge of building the perfect structures that keep us safe under the gravity domes. I spent most of my days improving coffee makers for other Fanatic members. My “small part in the chase of perfection,” Claire said.

People came and went from the apartment on a weekly basis, giving me a long list of names to feed to Joe. Then he’d send in his boys to raid their place, finding the tampered coffee machines. He was smart about it too. He’d prioritize the names according to social status, hitting the higher ups only, always with some other excuse for the search to draw as little attention to me as possible.

I doubt I could keep it up for much longer, I was already pushing my luck. But for the first time in five years, I felt like things were finally starting to improve. Like what I was doing actually meant a damn. I met with Joe at our usual spot, in his Cruiser, to give him my latest batch of member names.

“The Chief wants to see us.” Joe pulled up a street map of the city sector on the vid screen set in the dash in front of him. He tapped on a location and the Cruiser hummed to life, immediately picking up speed as it zoomed along the tracks.

“Yeah? What for? I haven’t been in contact with the Chief since he gave me this assignment.”

“Maybe he’s taken notice after all the progress you’ve been making recently.” Joe took the list of names from me and studied them as the Cruiser approached the precinct. We rode in silence as he punched in each name, pulling up their public profile on the vid screen. I stared out the window, watching the buildings zip by, mind wandering. I didn’t care who they were, that was Joe’s problem. I only knew that they were the root of our little haven’s problems, and they needed to be dug up and never allowed to grow back.

Sparse and orderly, Chief Superintendent Carmansky’s office was exactly as I remembered it, not a thing changed from five years ago.

“Gentleman. Take a seat.” Carmansky motioned towards two high backed, leather chairs that sat facing his desk. As we sat, the Chief stood and paced around the room while he continued to speak to us. “Beige tells me that you’ve been making some progress. Finding Fanatic members in possession of tampered electronics.”

“That’s right sir. I’ve been getting good intel from Claire. You were right to assign me to her. She’s low level, but still has connections.”

Carmansky nods, “Yes, of course she does.” He was back behind his desk now, still standing. He swept back the fabric of his open jacket and unholstered his service pistol. He placed it on his desk, but did not let go of it. “Beige also tells me that he suspects you’re the one who has been tampering with them.” I was stunned at his betrayal, had it written all over my damn face.

“Sam, I’m sorry, but I told you not to cross a li-” BANG! Joe’s defensive justification was cut short by the wad of lead that entered his face just below his right cheekbone and exited the back of his head. A spray of gore soiled the back of the leather chair. Instinct took over as I dove to the floor from my seated position, drawing my own pistol on the way down. No other shots rang out, just Chief Carmansky’s soft chuckle.

“Get up Mandalay, I’m not going to shoot you.” I heard the beep of an intercom. “Marjorie, we’ll need a level five cleanup in here, thanks.” The intercom beeped again, then the squeak of a desk chair under Carmansky’s weight. “I knew you had potential Sam. That’s why I put you on this assignment. I am surprised though. That it’s taken you this long to come around”

I slowly rose and sat back in my chair, holstering my weapon. How far reaching are these Fanatics?! “Well, I’ve been in the dark all this time, didn’t know who I could trust. Except for Claire.” I was in the shit now. I fed Carmanksy any line I thought he would want to hear. Have I found the head of the snake?

Carmansky sat forward on his elbows, fingertips together. He stared at me for a few seconds. They felt like hours. “Good. Good. She trusts you too. Welcome to the Fanatics and the strive for achieving true perfection.” I matched Carmanksy’s wide grin with one of my own, playing a part, but at the time, not knowing my lines for the final act.

The arrogance of people. Their ultimate downfall. It took zero pressure on Claire to get a front row seat to the Fanatic’s “big finale”, as they called it, despite my recent initiation. A Guideline Cruiser picked us up and took us to a facility that housed a control terminal for Prime Alpha One’s water collection and gravity fluctuation monitors.

“How are we going to get in? These places are restricted. Only Military personnel are allowed inside.”

Claire took my hand and smiled as we walked towards the building. “We’re everywhere honey. Nowhere is restricted to us.” Two armed soldiers saluted us as Claire lead me through the main entrance. Inside the building, we approached a large bank of computers that seemed to culminate at a control terminal with an oversized vid screen. Carmansky was seated at the terminal, holding a small disc and studying the readouts that printed across the screen.

“Ah! Claire, Sam, so glad you could be here to witness our ultimate perfection!” Carmansky stood as he greeted us.

“I don’t understand, what exactly are we doing here?” I didn’t know what to expect, or how I was going to stop whatever plan they had.

Carmanksy held up the small disc as he replied, “This little guy will change our world as we know it Sam. It’s protocols will revolutionize our life support systems. It can calculate when and where the gravity fluctuations will hit even more quickly and accurately than before. There will be less wastage in our water collection. The threat of toxic soil vaporization will be all but eliminated!”

I’d heard enough. I pulled my pistol from its holster and pointed it at Carmansky. “Put the disc down Chief. I can’t let you compromise these systems.”

“Hold on Sam, just think about this now. These systems aren’t perfect! This is the key to making it so!” He raised his hands, the disc still held in his right.

“Sam, no! How could you do this to us?” Claire immediately broke down at my betrayal.

“Just shutup, both of you!” Gun still trained on Carmansky, I grabbed the disc from him, snapping it in half and putting it in my pocket. “Now, get on your knees. You’re under arrest.”

“You won’t make it out of here Mandalay. GUARDS! GUARDS!” Carmansky yelled out as he went for his own weapon. I pulled the trigger twice, the slugs punching two holes in his chest. His body slumped to the floor. Claire screamed at the sudden violence as the military guards from the front entrance came bursting in. They hesitated for a second, surveying the scene, before raising their automatic weapons. That second was all I needed to grab a hold of Claire and pull her in front of me as a human shield. The soldiers and I fired at each other simultaneously.

Their rifle fire tore into Claire’s abdomen as my pistol fire found similar targets on their own bodies. I caught a bullet to the gut as Claire went limp and I lost my grip on her. The soldiers fell, the boom of their rifles ceasing as I struggled to stay on my feet. Luckily the Cruiser we took there was still sitting out front waiting for me. I hauled myself inside, cringing at the pressure of my hand pressed hard against my wound. I punched in a destination for home, leaving a smear of bloody fingerprints on the vid screen.

---

I thought I had done it. I thought I had stopped the Fanatics. I didn’t stop to think about the other terminals across Prime Alpha One. I didn’t think about just how many of them there were. How could one man have stopped them all? Blood leaks from my eyes and ears now. The gas is so thick that the sunlight is almost entirely blocked out. I raise the gun to my temple. Some hero I turned out to be. BANG!

L.