Free The Solution by TA Williams Page A

different person as Dr. Reverence ended the grueling hours of therapy. The monitors flickered blue in the dark.
    “I’m very sorry,” Mr. Spires leaned in front of her, inches away from her chapped lips. She hadn’t seen someone look at her with sympathy in what seemed like ages. His suit was wrinkled, and his hair appeared greasy, his eyes two moony pools in the dark. He put moisturizer on her lips.
    “Hopefully that will help you,” he whispered.
    She said nothing, only gazed vacantly. When she had first met Mr. Spires, she respected and trusted him. There was none of that left, and honestly she couldn’t feel her lips in the first place. Mr. Spires sighed and backed away, sitting behind a holocomputer. He put his head in his hands. 
    S tale quietness permeated the room with the exception of humming electricity. In a sober daze, Elizabeth looked at the thick wires plugged into her arms and the network that wrapped around her. It was a selfish yet loving leviathan, she knew, and it was all too real. But it didn’t matter anymore, Elizabeth concluded. Chaos. Death. All the pain, all the hate, she knew them at the atomic level now—and no one knew them better than her. 
    She had one body, but her minds were becoming many. She felt like a rioting metropolis resided inside her, as though a centrifugal mechanism had separated her wholeness into numerous elements. So many thoughts clashed like titans making hurricanes in her head, and the experience was so far from pleasant Elizabeth believed there’s a hell. She was a different person, or persons.
    Something inside, maybe a ghost of her self’s past, tried to soothe her, bring her back to the whole, to tie herself back together—but she gladly smothered the little sentiment. Bring me back to the whole of what ? Scrawny features of her personality deserved nasty deaths just like her mother. Just like the public and like the Solution. She smiled deeply, enough to make her cheeks wrinkle, then the smile faded to nothing.
    She stared at Mr. Spires. He lifted his head from his hands. He couldn’t read her expression, and none of his programs were able probe her mind and see her thoughts. The hair on the back of his neck stood like little trees and his body was covered with gooseflesh.
    I will shred actuality from the likes of every soul on the planet. Each human is a solipsistic, pompous mammal, and I’ll let them believe there is no self unless there is torment, because anguish and woe will be all that’s factual. That, the public must know.
    I am better than the Internet. I will know more than Everything.
    While Elizabeth had realized a part of herself left her body a few moments ago to warn Randal, such lèse majesté must not occur again; omnipotence was initiating.
    As fast and as intense as they ’d come, Elizabeth’s clashing thoughts receded to the pits of her brain and she was left in sobering silence once more, not thrilled by the fact that, not only had life change many times, it changed quick and uncaringly.
    Geared up to begin a second sequence of tests and draining processes , Dr. Temple entered Room 432, smirking at Elizabeth with a gleam in his blue eyes.
    Dr. Temple said to Mr. Spires , “Molecular surveillance capabilities exponentially increased and progress is of a colossal scope. You should be pleased.”
    Mr. Spires blinked his eyes.
    “Oh , what a world we live in, Elizabeth,” Dr. Temple told her, “I said that you are a doorway, and you really are. You are monumental.”
     
     
    Chapter Seven
    Cosmic Tears
     
     
    “We have t o think about individualization and what course the public will take if their wills indeed become theirs again,” Alex Treaty said.
    Hours ago t hey had blocked the All’s signal and driven to an obscure, cozy and old brownstone uptown before an entire brigade of Solution Black Cats and RMS demolished the Vintage Hotel, but none of it made Randal feel any better.
    Christopher M stood guard by the front door, his