Exiles Chapter 3

"Now what do we do?" Mags asked after they had sat there a long time. Well It had been at least ten minutes since then had looked down at her hand on his flesh, then at each other and then away, both going back to their private own private hells.

"I- I don't know." Mars said. "Without the Trace, I feel lost."

"What is this "Trace-thingy" you keep talking about?" Mags said not expecting an answer.

Mars was silent long enough that she finally looked over at him. He sat there, his mouth moving but no words coming out, it was if he were trying to come up with an answer but failing to find words to express it. Finally he shook his head and looked down at the gun in his hands.
"I can find no words in my mind that I can speak to say what the Trace is or was. It told me that it could not maintain contact with me for long after we arrived here."

"You mean it was here but isn't anymore?"

"Yes, but-" He stopped short then shook his head.

"But?" She spoke more to prod him than to ask.

"No, that is not right." He said then looked at her and nodded. "The Trace is or was in my head, I cannot see it, except when I picture it in my head- my- my.." mars waved his hands a bit. "My mind's eye- the Trace is my mind's eye...no that's not right either."

"Did you have it back where you came from- before you were sent here?" She asked. It was pretty confusing- talk about lost in translation.

"Yes, back there the Trace was always with me. It would tell me what to do, where to go, how to do most things, when to do most things."

"Like a conscience?"

"Conscience- I don't know that word. What is a conscience?"

"It's like an inner voice- a part of your- your" now she was waving her hands. She made herself stop and look at him. "Hell I don't know, it is something most of us humans just have."

"Yes, I guess the Trace is like that." Mars nodded. "Does it talk to you much?"

"I guess..."

"Where can i get this Conscience?" Mars suddenly asked.

"Uhm."

"What?"

"Well- you can't get a conscience- per-say, my dad always said you had to grow one."

"Grow one?" Mars looked perplexed. "You mean like grow a beard or grow a tree""

"Uhm." Talk about awkward questions.

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"Yes, I was built at birth to be the perfect soldier." Mars said simply. 

" Built at birth…Oh like a clone!" 

Mars looked at her for a long moment then shook his head.
 "No, after conception, my father approached a Gene-scientist who regrouped genetic data within my mother’s womb and added and separated certain chains in order to form me into the desired template. The result was that from birth I was more apt to excel in things that would make me the perfect soldier."

                        

Mags sat there a long time mulling this over. It still sounded like she had just stepped into that Robot movie.
"So uou are saying your father wanted you to be this killing machine- this perfect soldier so you could go about killing people efficiently?"
God, she hoped he would tell here something- anything else that would convince her that he was something else other than a horror movie reject.

Mars looked at her until she started to blush.Then he shook his head and she began to breather again.
"Yes." Damn. "No" What? that made it worse right?
"I mean he did have me genetically altered" mars began again. "But he wanted me to be- designed- templated to become a general. But his political rivals bribed the Gene-Doc to be a genetic mistake instead."
Mags shot him a look, one of utter confusion then she thought she understood-
"So, you’re just a screw up then?"

Mars shook his head again. "No. The Gene-Doc had his own agenda, he made me into some-kind of super

soldier template. So now I am just efficient- as you say damnably efficient."

"So, let me see if I have this right." mags stood up and walked out into the road then turned to face him. "You’re saying that soldier’s are efficient and general’s are merciless and what you just did was because you were born or templated or designed or something to be efficient."

Mars looked up at her, considered his gun, made an adjustment, then nodded.

Mags threw up her hands. I am so completely screwed, that's what i am.
"That’s crazy. I mean that's insane, God! I mean you just killed a man and called it efficient- that means your whole life’s been crazy!"

He had the nerve to raise one quizzical eyebrow at that.

"You can’t just- You can't just go around killing people arbitrarily like that." she realized she was flapping her arms and made herself stop. "You just can’t."

Mars checked the sights on the gun and made another adjustment then peered up at her.

"No? Why not."

"Because it’s inhuman!"

"I am not human- or at least I am....not sure I am human."

"Well you look human and- Well we don’t go around killing people we don’t like."

"I don’t kill people just because I don’t like them."

"Oh? Well, what do you call that? You obviously did not like him!"

"Efficient."

"Oh no- you are NOT going to start that again." She stopped and then with a nod decided a change of attack might work- reverse....reverse pyschology. "Did you like him?"

"No."

"AHA! So you killed him, because you did NOT like him!"

"No." mars said calmly not taking the bait. "He would have killed us whether he liked us or not. I killed him because it was effic.... because it was the logical course of action."

"I give up!" she said and flounced back over and collapsed into the grass beside him. She knew immediately it was a mistake- the long grass was pokey and very uncomfortable, so she sat back up in a huff.

"Besides I haven’t killed you." He added dryly.

"What? You don’t like me?" Mags said all mock horror and poked at him in the ribs.

 Mars looked down at her hand. They looked at it together. She left it hovering right next to his skin.

"That depends." he said.                                      

Exiles continued

"What have you done!" She runs across the road and plunges into the grass finding the man lying spread eagle in the tall grass. His face is a mask of agony as he gurgles up blood from the tear that is his mouth. 

"You shot him!" Mags yells as she struggles to think what to do. She looks back at the man who is caught between gasps of pain, gasps for air and the shock at what has just happened to him.

"Yes." Mars says, Mags looks back at him, standing on the road, the gun still extended out to where that man had stood.
                     

"You shot him, you sonnava-bitch!" Mags yells again, she throws her gun away into the grass and kneels beside the dying man. "I can't believe this."

"yes." Mars says it again without inflection, he considers the gun, obviously not satisfied with its performance.

Mags tries to resuscitate the man, but it is obvious he’s dying. She tries for several minutes to save the man’s life but it is a complete loss. The end result is her shirt is covered with the man’s blood. She looks around desperately knowing that it is hopeless, that nothing she does will be enough. 

"Aren’t you going to help me? He’s dying." She gestures at Mars then points back at the man, realizing that she is now caught halfway between a crouch and what? Was she getting ready to charge the killer or run for her life. It suddenly seems so pointless. Instead she drops onto her behind, and makes to wipe her brow with the back of her hand stopping only when she see the dark blood staining it.

" I wouldn’t have shot him if I wanted to help him." Mars says pedantically. He looks at her a moment, then shakes his head not understanding her logic at all.

Mags drops her hand and looks down at the man.
"He’s dead. He’s dead. You killed him! You sonnava-bitch!" She realizes she is growing hysterical and tries to stop herself and fails. She is sobbing at the horror that lies right in front of her.

"Yes,"  Mars says dropping the arm holing the gun to his side and considering her as if she were a zoo animal rather than a human being. "that was my purpose for shooting him."

"Why?" Mags asks as she starts trying to wipe the blood from her hands on the grass. "Why would you do that?" As she gathers up bunches of grass and rubs them in her hands she see the blood all over her tee shirt and stops, shaking her head in despair. She waits a moment then looks up at Mars. "Why Mars? Why?"

 "It was him or us."

"You’re crazy. Him or us.  What kind of answer is that? Him or us!" She half sobs as she looks down at the stained shirt- it had been her favorite Pink Floyd shirt for Chrissakes! "I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere with a raging psycho!"  She climbs to her feet and pulls the shirt up which -of course gets stuck. She gags at the smell of ichor and chokes as she desperately tears it the rest of the way of of her head. She throws it away, then in a sudden rush of terror and nausea throws up what little is left in her stomach-which turns out to be very little.

Mars looks at her, then turns away and walks to the other side of the road and squats down.
Mags stops as she realizes that she isn't reacting as much as she is wanting to vomit and straightens up. Her hair falls on her pale shoulders, she looks down at her bra and wonders if it will be okay. She reminds herself this is California and walking around in a bra is no big deal. She sighs and looks at her hands. Making a decision she hastily bends down and wipes her hands on the dead man’s clothes.
Pausing after doing this she looks back at the man she barely knows squatting on the side of the road, She bites her bottom lip as she tries to decide what to do next.
Taking a deep breath, she makes a decision stands up and walks over to Mars. She squats down next to him and they stay there a bit as she tries to gather her thoughts. 

Mags looks at her hands still a bit red and wishes not for the first time that day for a shower and change of clothers.
"All right, I’m sorry," She begins and peers over at him. "You’re not a psycho, but you’re so… so completely merciless."
"No, not merciless just efficient." Mars says as he looks away at the horizon.

"What?"

"Efficient." Mars says again.

Maybe she apologized to soon, She watched him a moment having a unnerving feeling of deja-vue then realizing that it came from that robot movie she had watched last year where the machine had been human looking and equally as remorseless. It probably would have referred to killing all those people and cops as efficient.
"Efficient! You call that efficient." She heard herself saying. "You just shot a man down in cold blood and you have the nerve to call it efficient?"

Mars looks at her and with a flush of relief he doesn't have those robot eyes. They look sad and a little bewildered.
"Yes. If my father had had his way, then that would have been merciless." Mars speak and she feels him look into himself and it is as if he goes a long, long way away from where they are sitting. "But instead I was built to be different- a soldier template, so it was efficient."

"Did you just say built?" Oh crap, holy crap!- he is the terminate- thingy! She thinks and remembers the name Sarah Connors- for some reason. Why- what does that name have to do with the robot monster? She hears herself say something that seems like it has been rehearsed or said before. "you mean like you were designed, like a machine?"