Hosein Kouros-Mehr - Extinction 6

“Cooper, don’t go in there!”

Her A.I. is quiet. The chopper enters the ship’s belly and lands in the middle of a large runway. She unbuckles her seat belt and rushes to escape the cockpit.

“Stay where you are!” someone shouts through a loudspeaker.

Laser beams blind her and she puts her hands in the air. “What do you want from me?”

“Don’t move.” Three military personnel escort her from the vehicle and drag her across the runway to an office. They force her to sit in a surgical chair and handcuff her arms to metal rings.

She struggles. “Let me free!”

Two Rottweilers emerge from a kennel and race towards her, growling as they run in circles around her. A dog jumps onto her and barks viciously in her face. She screams and shakes her head left and right, trying to avoid its jaws.

“Down,” someone yells. The dogs kneel next to an army officer wearing fatigues and sunglasses. He approaches her. “Bethany Andrews…”

“Leave me alone!”

He blindfolds her and violently tilts her backwards. “Tell us about your connections with China.”

Beth’s heart races. “This is a big mistake. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Answer the question!”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another soldier brings a bucket of water and places it under her head. “You’re lying to us.”

“I’m an American CEO in charge of the world’s biggest technology company. I have no dealings with China—”

They hang her vertically and dunk her head into the bucket. She struggles for air and fights to get free. After a minute, they lift her back up and she gasps.

The officer stands inches from her face. “I’ll ask you again. Tell us about your business partners in Asia.”

She coughs. “You’re mistaking me for someone else!”

He rips the blindfold from her face. “You’re lying to us. We know you’re with the enemy.”

She tries to look at the officer but the floodlights blind her. “I love America…”

“That’s a lie.”

“Please, you have to believe me. I would never do anything to hurt our country.”

“Then why are you obstructing the Armed Forces?”

She breathes hard as water drips from her hair. She pulls her arms and scratches her wrists against the handcuffs. A tearing pain rips across her body.

“Answer the question,” the officer shouts. “Why are you trying to stop the Information Tariffs?”

“I don’t disagree with them—” She hollers as a needle thrusts into her shoulder, sending a sharp pain down her arm. Tears well in her eyes and she pleads with her captor. “Please, stop hurting me!”

“You are not being cooperative.”

She sobs uncontrollably, trembling in fear. “What do you want me to do?”

“Answer the question. Why are you against the military?”

She quivers on the chair. “I was wrong. I made an error and I’m sorry… please stop…”

“What was your mistake?”

Her vision grows cloudy. “…I didn’t support our President.”

The officer grins. “In what way?”

“I thought the tariffs were bad policy, but I was wrong.”

“Good. What else?”

She grows dizzy and her head oscillates back and forth. “Please let me go—”

“We aren’t finished yet. You need to be more specific with me. Tell me why you hate your government.”

“…I don’t… I only disagree on one issue…”

“Which one?”

“The Tariffs.”

“Are you with the enemy?”

A wave of nausea overcomes her. “No… I’m a patriot.”

The soldier bends over and barks in her face. “That’s a lie. Be honest for once!”

“Okay, just don’t hurt me.” She shudders in fear. “I don’t believe the Chinese pose a threat to Google.”

The soldier nods. “And what else?”

“I think tariffs will hurt America. I don’t agree with the President’s policies.”

“You’re finally being sincere, but you haven’t answered the question. Are you a spy for a foreign government?”

“No,” she pleads. “I’m a proud American! I would never do anything to hurt my country…”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m truthful. You can’t make me lie!”

The room spins around her and a throbbing pain explodes in her head. She grows nauseous and gags, vomiting onto herself. Her vision blurs and begins to darken. “I’m… not a spy…”

She blacks out.

Beth awakes.

Where am I?

She looks around a metal enclosure and tries to lift herself but falls deeper into piles of trash. Plastic bags rip open and ooze rotten food and liquids onto her body. She struggles to keep her head up, retching in the overwhelming stench of garbage.

Oh God, help me.

She grabs a ledge and jerks herself free, pulling with all her force to escape her steel prison. Seconds later, she loses her grip and falls back into the slimy waste.

I’m stuck in here.

She tries to breathe but gags on the stink of decay as flies land around her. “Help me!” she shrieks at the top of her lungs.

Someone opens the door above and sunlight shines into the pen. A teenage boy looks inside the trash container and then quickly darts away. She reaches again for the ledge and this time anchors her foot on a panel, jumping from it and grabbing onto a rim. She lifts herself out of the bin.

How do I get down?

She loses her balance and tips over, falling flat onto the concrete below. Waves of agony shoot across her shoulders and down her body. Terror grips her.

Why is this happening to me?

The spasm intensifies. She fights through the misery and draws herself away from the panic, watching her emotions from a distance.

I’m alive. Just breathe.

She focuses to conquer the fear. Soon the pain starts to dissipate as she regains control. She sits upright and blinks through her cloudy vision, seeing streets of mud and rows of crumbling tenement buildings stretching to the sky. In the distance, children kick a soccer ball and a woman hangs clothes on a line.

She screams, “Can someone help me?”

No one comes to her aid. She spots a riverbed and crawls towards it past a street sign. “Welcome to Livermore, CA.”

I’m still in the Bay Area.

She looks for her smartglasses and identification, but her pockets are empty.

How will I get home?

Nearby, a river flows through a concrete embankment. Gagging on the smell of trash, she limps into it and submerges herself in the stream, her muscles aching in the chill depth. Seconds later, she rises and takes a deep breath of fresh air, shuddering when a wind chills her bones.

A soccer ball flies over the wall and slams into the creek. Beth swims towards it and grabs it. A group of children gathering on a mound point at her. “Give that back to us!”

She aims to throw the ball when she spots a teenager using an old device, one that her company built over two decades before—a smartphone. She approaches the youngster. “If you want this, then let me make a call.”

“Fuck you, lady.”

She walks ashore and lifts the ball over her head as water drips from her clothing. “Let me borrow your phone for five minutes and you’ll get this back.”

A boy with a shaved head gives her the middle finger.

She slings her arm back and aims the ball downriver. “That’s not how you treat an elder. Say goodbye to your toy.”

“Don’t throw it. Please!”

“Let me make one phone call.”

“Fine.” The teen throws her the device. She catches it from and throws the ball back. As the kids play, she smiles when she spots Pixel 22 engraved on the back of the mobile.