The War In His Mind

Chapter 38

The view from atop Isaiah's tower looking town upon the city was enough to make a hardened soldier lose faith in his country. The rockets, forged by Isaiah's own men, collided into buildings, killing hundreds of citizens.

Isaiah sat in a large chair overlooking it all. He felt as if he were some mastermind, and this was his end game. Yet he knew he was just a pawn. There was nothing he could have done to prevent it. Thomas O'Neil had him cornered at every turn.

"I've betrayed my country," Isaiah said. His voice trembled. His entire body was numb and his heart was weary with regret. Even though he was his own man, O'Neil found a way to control him. He had reattached the strings that were supposedly stripped away. And with those strings came the pains of slavery. It was enough pain that he wished the explosives in his head would go off and end his life. It was what he deserved, anyways.

His assistant, a younger man in a dress shirt and tie, sat beside him. Isaiah looked at him. He was a bright lad. There were few men like him in the city. Certainly none as talented. "What do you think, boy?" Isaiah imagined himself inside a confessional booth with the man as the preacher. "Have I condemned the only world we've got?"

It was a strange thought. Isaiah knew it to be false. Yes, he might have sent this world to hell, but there were many more. He peered over his shoulder at the modem. It was humming away. With a touch of a button he could connect to any version of Wonder City he wanted. In a book that O'Neil wrote, it was explained as the "Theory of Infinite Saves."

Every few months the computer would save Wonder City as a new file, yet the old one lived on. It duplicates itself and becomes its own reality. Yet the events that unfold after the save are unique to that world. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of saves in the system. In one world a revolution may occur. In a separate save, there might only be a small battle before the resistance is crushed. O'Neil moved between these worlds. He was the constant to the variable of Wonder City. All of the cities were held together by him. Eliminating him might set off a catalytic reaction, allowing each version to become their own master, just as the version Isaiah lived in did.

They all existed separately, yet they can only be accessed by connecting the computer to the larger server where they were all saved.

For all the freedom that the alternate worlds brought, Isaiah felt more enslaved than ever. He knew he was tied to this world. There were other Isiah's out there. It wasn't possible for two versions of the same person to live in harmony on the same world. That could lead to societal rifts. It was a bad idea to mix alternate realities together. What if criminals crossed worlds where they had no records of their crimes? How would anybody tell them apart from the innocent versions of themselves. What if one version of a person was evil, and the other was patriotic and loyal to their people?

Isaiah stared out the window towards the command center. Civilians were being herded in like cattle. It struck him that these people were only somewhat different than the clones. They were being controlled like O'Neil just the same. What difference would it make if they were clones anymore? O'Neil had a tight grasp over the war, and only he knew it. Yet it was impossible to tell anyone or he himself might implode.

One of his assistants, a young secretary by the name of Joshua, opened the door to the office. Isaiah turned to him. "Must you interrupt me, son?"

"Sir...we're ordered to evacuate...are you coming?"

Isaiah felt the muscles in his face droop down. "This is my fate...this is my reality. Must a free man die a slave?"

Joshua raised his eyebrows and stared at Isaiah from an angle. "...I..." he paused "...what?"

"A man always has a choice. Realize this."

"A choice?"

Isaiah stood up and peered out the window at the world below. "The greatest choices are the ones that require us to sacrifice everything we have built. Have you built anything, son?"

"No sir..."

Abraham paused. He stared at Joshua out of the corner of his eye. "You lying little shit."

Joshua gasped. His face twisted into a disgusted snarl. "Hey..."

Abraham cut him off. "You've built friendships. Community. Comradery. Who was that lady you were walking with the other day?"

"My fiance."

"And you have the gut to tell me you haven't built anything?"

"Not like you, sir." Joshua's tone of voice was rough, and mildly more aggressive than when he walked into the room.

"I may have built a company, but I could never build community. Who now stands by my side? Where are my allies? My foes outnumber me." Isaiah thought about his meeting with Israel. If it was possible to go back in time and give freely, he would have. "All of my actions...all of my greed...has brought me here."

Isaiah looked at the bodies of those who had fallen. "I've put the pursuit of money over the pursuit of community...and now I've nothing to show for it but the corpses that litter my doorstep."

Isaiah's tone softened. His words became whispers. "...But I have one last choice."