As soon as we reach the woods 12 emerges from the pack and pulls me into the dense trees. Without a word she wraps her arms around me and begins to weep. I stand there in shock for about a minute, my arms limp at my sides. I have never seen anyone cry like this, least of all 12. She has always been calm, collected-visionary at times to the extent of ridiculousness-but never helpless. "12 we need to keep running, we can't be the last at the end." At this she just sobs harder. "It doesn't matter." "Oh." I respond continuing to stand there uncomfortably as her tears soak my neck. I try to pat her on the back, but the entire situation is so foreign.
At last she looks up at me through naked eyes. All that they once were has been washed away revealing a clear line of sight to a sad emaciated soul. "Come, run with me." I take her by the hand gingerly and lead her into the clearing where happy grey snowflakes dance through the air. Tears continue to drift down 12′s cheeks, but thankfully she keeps pace. We aren't too far behind. At last I speak with caution. "What happened 12?" I make my voice soft and warm, she still flinches. For a moment it looks as though she is about to start sobbing again, then somehow her features harden and her normal voice comes out.
"It started with the mice. They were trying to teach us not to hold value in living things and the mice were a preliminary step, barley anything. From the mice they went to cats, from cats to dogs, and from dogs to primates of the ape variety. Then we were presented with what was clearly some form of hominid, not a human, but not an ape. The thing is though Seven, the closer the animals came to human intelligence, the more willing they were to fight to the death for sustenance when put in the glass holding container." She fixes me with raw eyes that make my insides recoil into each other.
"Finally they gave us what were clearly humans with the exception of minor facial deformities. They looked like us Seven, but they had clearly never been introduced to any type of language. Their eyes, though, their eyes showed intelligence. I could feel it, we all could." She sighs. "We were told that they had a genetic disorder that rendered them inferior and therefore it justly corresponded with the greater purpose to use them for our education." I nod slowly, blowing on my cold white fingers.
"Tight Rope had been nearing the breaking point, the anxiety in her eyes was constant, she lost so much weight she looked like a walking skeleton. She went from chewing her nail beds until they bled to picking the skin off her fingers. When we were asked to repeat the process on the humans with the genetic disorder she broke down and refused. Within seconds Apocalypse's replacement pressed a button on her wrist port." 12 clenches her jaw.
"Tight Rope didn't have the chance to scream. All that was left was a charred corpse. It was the electricity in her wrist port, they killed her with it." I warily regard the device on my arm as though seeing it for the first time. The rumors were actually true this time. I suppose I of all people shouldn't be surprised. I've been zapped more than anyone. Yet for some reason I never truly grasped the notion that it could kill me. I turn to 12 who has disappeared into another universe. I try to pull her back. "So if I were to try and remove my arm, would the nerve connection in the wrist port prevent me from doing so?"
12 frowns thoughtfully. "I heard that if you tried to remove your wrist port it would launch some self destruction sequence and all your nerve cells would be stuck firing action potentials until you died. I can't remember where on Earth I heard that though." For no reason at all I burst out laughing. 12 looks shocked for a moment before joining me. "Well I suppose that's a no to chopping off my arm. I guess I will have to make new plans for this afternoon." 12 smiles slightly shaking her head. It's good to see her smile again.
"Wait one more thing." I say with light caution. "Yeah," she turns. "Do you happen to know what the genetic disorder was?" "Oh," she responds, "I think it was a meiotic error, nondisjunction leading to trisomy 21. We read something on it in Past Events, it used to be called Down Syndrome in like the 21st century. It was actually really interesting, there used to be all these people born with disabilities, and instead of being terminated early they were basically taken care of by society. Like people put all these resources into keeping them alive and integrating them into society."
"And of course there was the whole lecture about how this was a classic example of the weakness that lead to the demise of the human race. There was also something about how the issues associated with caring for these people-especially as the instance of their births increased with environmental pollution-paved the way for our modern "genomic principle of meritocracy." "Hmm," I respond carefully testing the water. I need to know if 12 is still as brainwashed by Bump Nose as she was before I disappeared. "What do you think?" 12 looks confused, the tiny wrinkles on her face crinkle.
Finally she turns back to me. "I don't know what I think, I mean it's good to take care of those who can't care for themselves... yet at the same time if countless resources were wasted on these people as Bump Nose suggested, and the good of the majority was sacrificed for the minority." Her shoulders tense up, then suddenly relax: defeat. I can't help but wonder if this is 12 finally reaching her breaking point. Is she the next Tight Rope? I swallow hard, my own fists clenching, vowing never to release, never to give in to defeat.
12 turns to me catching me off guard. "What do you think?" I turn dumbly. "About what?" She rolls her eyes. "Should they have taken care of those people, the ones with the genetic disorders and other disabilities." My lips form a hard line. "You want to know what I believe 12? I believe whatever I have to believe to keep me alive. I would advise you to do the same." At this silence sets in and our cold calloused feet speed forward over the tundra quickly covering lost ground.
