Great Things

Great things: Prologue

"Mom? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere far away from here."
"But what about Dad?"
"He's going to meet us there."
"Oh okay. Where are we going, Mom?"
"I told you, son, somewhere very far away."
"You said that already, I mean specifically, Mom"
"....."
"Mom?"
"You were always so gifted you know that? I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you. You are special boy and you are going to do great things, Silas. Great things."
"Mom, you tell me that all the time."
"Because I mean it, son. I truly do."
"I'll believe you when Dad says it, too."
"Ha ha. Alright. Come now, we don't want to miss the transport."
"Mom?"
"Yes, son?"
"We're the good guys, right?"
"....."
"Mom?"
"No, Silas. I'm afraid we aren't."
"Oh. Okay."
"I'm sorry, son."
"It's okay. As long as I have you and Dad, I don't care what we are."
"...."
"Mom."
"Yes?"
"Please stop crying."
"Okay."

Great Things: 21 years later

Silas awoke to the distant buzz of an alarm clock somewhere far away. As his slipped into consciousness however, the noise grew closer and closer until it was upon him. He tried to go back to his dream. Where the rain dripped and tattered all around him and the bright neon lights shining on the high-rises of the city blinded any who dared to stare for too long. His mother's hand gripping him tightly as they stood in the rain. The transport arriving just as an explosion shook the ground beneath their feet. Silas feeling the vibrations reverberate throughout every inch of the city that night. That night was a good night, until the alarm ruined everything.
"All right! All right. I'm up... just shut up." Silas said as he threw his comforter off of him. He sat up in his bed and tried his best to envision the corporation plaza bursting into flames. The thought always seemed to bring him solace. He stood, naked, at the edge of the bed and began his stretches. If one were watching from the doorway into the main condo, they would see a toned six-foot man stretching his back as he looked out a window which overlooked a burning city of neon lights engulfing the night. Silas looked upon his view from the one-hundred and third floor of the apartment building and smiled. He turned, doing a cartwheel back to the bed.
Just as he put on his pants, a thud came from outside the bedroom. Silas perked back his ears and silently reached for the handgun under the pillow. Just then a service robot flew through the door.
"Good morning sir!" the robot said in an upbeat British accent, "the maids have made you a fine dinner! Although if I do say so myself 11pm for a dinner time is not within normal dietary standards."
Silas eased his grip on the pistol and lowered it from the robot's head. "Well," Silas began, "I am far from standard." Silas resumed getting dressed, putting on all his gear except his combat helmet and sigil, and then strode into the condo. In the center of the condo, several floating robots made an effort to set the dining table while two others worked in the kitchen. The robot who had the British accent hovered over to Silas and asked which wine he preferred.
"Override 604 sigma. Designate new callsign: callsign BUTLER. Understood?" Silas said in a monotone voice. The robot made a beeping noise and in a metallic voice replied "requesting... directive."
Silas made no effort to think of a new directive. "Just the same as before."
"Buffering... buffering"
"Seriously?"
"My apologies good sir. I am retro-fitted with a humor drive. Would you like to deactivate it?
"No, keep it on. Tell me where our guest is."
"She is still in the closet in the second bedroom as you directed sir."
"Is she awake?"
"Very much so, sir. She has been banging on the door non-stop for about an hour now. I do wish you would make it stop. The racket is unbearable."
"Alright. I'm going to bring my guest out and dinner will be ready in ten minutes."
"Very good, sir! I will move the maids along."
"Butler."
"Yes, sir?"
"No wine tonight. Just water. It's going to be a long one."
"Very well, sir."
Butler hovered away from Silas with haste and began chattering with the maids. They weren't fitted with voice boxes like Butler, so they communicated through a sort of beeping Silas never could quite understand. It was why he hated them so much. It may as well have been the whole reason behind his job. He tore his eyes away from the foray of hovering machines to walk to the next bedroom.
Butler was right. The noise was unbearable. The woman yelled and banged on the closet door for what reason, Silas did not know. Then he remembered he made a quip about leaving her in there to rot. He laughed at that memory. Gliding to the door, he picked up his assault rifle next to the door and inserted the code to the closet on the keypad. When it opened the woman was mid-swing and brought a fist down onto Silas' chest. She was considerably smaller than him and quite beautiful although her hair and clothes were a mess. Her head remained tilted to the floor and the fist remained on his chest.
Silas could tell she was in shock from the realization of what she had just done. When she finally looked up her neck seemed to snap upward, her wild eyes meeting Silas'. He did not change the expression of his face. Instead he calmly grabbed the woman's wrist and said "dinner will be soon." He eyed her up and down. "And get decent. I'm sure there's something in this giant closest of yours that looks nice." He let go of her wrist, but she still remained frightened. She also remained frozen which annoyed Silas. He frowned and clicked a button on his chest rig. Butler was in the room within seconds.
"Dinner is almost ready sir. We have-," Butler floated closer, "Ah! I see the lady guest has stopped her insufferable banging. Although she does look rather rash if I say so myself," Butler giggled.
"Take care of it Butler. I'll be inspecting dinner," Silas said as he turned to walk out the door. Before he could she called out to him. "Wait!" Her voice was almost broken from the screaming but not quite and she seemed to gasping for air as if she had just now breathed since Silas had opened the door. Silas turned to her and waited in silence for what she was going to say. She seemed to be struggling to find words until she looked over to the broken window pane. Silas followed her gaze and remembered throwing his target out that window. It was quite spectacular how the man flew. At least, Silas thought it was amazing. He was sure the girl was terrified she would meet a similar fate.
"Are you going to ki-," he stopped her mid-sentence with his hand. He walked back to her and got close to have her fully feel the sentimentality of what he was about to say.
         "I have one rule for my job, miss." His was deep and powerful. "Now that must seem pretty rudimentary giving what I do, but I never break this rule. Do you want to know what it is?" he waited for her reply, and when she nodded he put his lips to her ear and whispered "No women. No children."
Silas pulled back and retreated back into the Condo. He left the woman in complete surprise. He could hear Butler shuffling her along as he leaned his back against the door. He realized his idea of a nice dinner with a target's wife had turned into a questioning of his own morality and humanity.
"What a terrible idea," Silas mumbled to himself.
He bent his knees and slid down the door until he was sitting and closed his eyes. He remembered the night he had asked his mother that fateful question. Are we the good guys? Her response was honest. That's what Silas loved about his mother. She was 100 percent honest. They weren't good guys in a good versus evil sense. More like a necessary evil. If there was a hell, Silas was definitely going there and he knew it. More importantly he accepted it.
His father had drilled it into him early that one must accept their fate, but to never let it govern their life. Silas always wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he died before Silas ever got the chance. The way Silas interpreted it was that he must do what he thought was right, and if it meant killing or being killed to achieve peace then so be it.
Peace is something Silas longed for, but his job was far from over. He still had a lot of people to kill and a lot more to scare. The corporation wouldn't relent any other way.
"Don't push me. Damn it. I can walk!" a woman voice yelled in the room.
Silas was still sitting with his back on the door. Unconsciously, he had pulled out the picture of his parents that he kept in his pocket. He let out a sigh, got up, and returned the picture to his breast pocket. The woman emerged from the bedroom in a scarlet red dress. It was skin tight, showing off her slender physique and prominent legs. If Silas was not a professional he might have blushed. Butler followed behind her.
"A little clichdon't you think?" Silas asked Butler.
"Ah but a gorgeous clich sir!" Butler floated to Silas' side and both of them stared at the woman. Her annoyance was replaced by fear when her eyes met with Silas. He decided after all the emotions he had been having that he should detach himself from the situation. He gripped the holster of his pistol and turned to face Butler.
"Thank you for your service," Silas said with a smile to the floating robotic egg.
"You're quite welcome, sir, but the night is not done yet! We have much to-,"
BANG! Butler was cut short by the 45-caliber bullet piercing his motherboard. The robot fell to the floor in a big clunk, spattering nonsense in a British accent as fluids spread across the floor. A small fire erupted and Butler remained ablaze on the floor. Silas only stood and watched. He holstered his pistol and sighed. He looked to the fallen machine and then to the woman in the red dress.
"Now. dinner?" Silas offered his hand to the woman. His tone was in no way sinister or demeaning, but sincere and earnest. The woman, perplexed by Silas, straightened herself from the fearful slump she had worn all night and straightened her resolve.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asked. Before Silas offered a reply, she held up her finger to interrupt. "And I don't mean, physically... I mean..." she struggled to find the words.
Silas only smiled and gave her an answer. "I'm not a psychopath ma'am. Or should I say miss? Not like those idiots with the rebellion. No. No, I am an idealist. A man with morals, dignity, and, more importantly, honor. Something this world lacks. And to answer your question, yes. I am here to kill you. All of you really. I am here to kill everything that infects this world. Your corporation included. I am here to bring a reckoning and maybe even in your opinion, oblivion. I do all this with resolve and unrelenting determination, not because I am insane or mad but because I fully believe that what I am doing is the best chance this world has at redemption. So, the way I see it." Silas walked over to the candle lit table and sat down. "If you're going to experience the end of the world." He lifted the wine glass full of water and crossed his leg on top of the other. "Why not do it with a little class?"

The Beginning