Free Gene. Sys. by Aaron Denius Garcia

and defy him. These thoughts help me get
through the daunting task of putting on a dead man’s clothes. I finish changing
and 80 steps out of the rubble holding a handgun and a long staff. He hands me
the staff and conceals the gun in his pants.
    “Let’s go.” 80 heads into the
city.
    I follow. “How do you know which way to go?”
    “I’m just walking to the giant structure in the
center of the city.” He puts his arm around my shoulder and I smile. For a
moment I feel we are brothers.
    As we walk deeper into the city the density of
people increases. 80 was right, no one is paying
attention to us. My nerves calm and my senses seem to kick into high gear. The
first thing to hit me is the smell. It is one of the most pungent odors I have
ever experienced. There is a hint of sweat and smoke, but the main culprit
seems to be rotting flesh, much like from the dead body whose clothes I am
wearing. My skin feels clammy and I realize that it is at least fifteen degrees
hotter here than at the compound.
    The only thing that seems to be pleasant in this
repulsive city is the sounds of a steady beat I hear. “What do you think that
is?”
    “I don’t know.” 80 turns down a street and heads towards the sound. “Let’s find out.”
    I would be turning away from the pyramid, which
is what I really want to see, but I am just as curious to explore the sounds.
It doesn’t take us long to get to the source as we are suddenly greeted by a
wall of people all looking towards the center. “I think it’s a party.”
    80 looks at me with
dead eyes. “I don’t know what that is.”
    I’m surprised by what he just said. Then I
remember that there are many things that I am sure he hasn’t experienced. “It’s
a gathering for a celebration.”
    “Ok,” he responds, unsure. “What about the
sound? And the smell?”
    “The sound is music. Nothing I have heard
before.” I listen closer. It’s very drum heavy and rhythmic. Suddenly a second
smell hits me. It’s a type of burning, but this one is making my mouth water.
“I don’t know what that smell is.”
    We try to look around the crowd but my gaze is
pulled away when I hear a buzzing by my head. I look and spot one of the
dragonfly cameras. They are much smaller in person and had I not seen one
before I wouldn’t be any wiser to what it is. I swat at it but it doesn’t move.
    “They found us,” I say.
    80 turns and looks around. “What do you mean?”
    I point to the dragonfly. “That’s a camera.”
    Before I know it, the staff has been pulled from
my grasp and 80 smashes the dragonfly camera. “Run. Go!”
    We take off towards the pyramid. If I am going
to get caught, I want to be able to see the pyramid before they reach me. As we
run a few more dragonflies give chase. We do our best to avoid being spotted,
but there are too many, so we decide to just run straight for the pyramid.
    Everything slows down as the majestic structure
that I have been coveting reveals itself to me. I had
seen many pictures but none of them prepared me for the way I would feel. There
is obvious wear on the pyramid and one of the corners seems to have been blown
off, but I still can’t help but feel humbled. Humans built this stunning work
of art over fifty centuries ago and no one in this city seems to have even an
inkling of respect for it. Suddenly, my purpose seems clearer. I wasn’t created
to only save the human race; I was created to also preserve its history.     
    “It’s amazing,” 80 says and he snaps me out of my head.
    “It truly is. Thank you for bringing me out
here, but we need to get back.” I turn to head back to the compound.
    80 doesn’t move. “What
do you think they’ll do to me?”
    “What do you mean?” I look at him.
    “I brought you out here. They are not going to
be very happy about that.” He looks up at me and for the first time I see a
fear of death in his eyes.
    “I won’t let them do anything to you. You are my
friend and you saved