Episode 3: Remember Me
Part 4
From his perch on the tiny catwalk above the stage, he watched them scattering around like cockroaches in a musty apartment when the lights turned on. Looking for him, no doubt.
Obviously, they were looking for him; why wouldn’t they be? He wasn’t one of them anymore, and because of that, they wanted him gone. His steel-blue eye took it all in, along with the aid of the red light emanating from his former right eye’s socket. Now gears, metal, and a robotically engineered optical system took its place. He was beyond normal now, beyond them, and beyond his own imagination.
His hand drifted subconsciously to the area that had once held his eye. Losing his eye had led to new skills. Yet, the betrayal when it had first happened still spun around his clouded mind.
Nick, who had ruined him and changed his life permanently…
Jay, who had done nothing…
Red, who hadn’t been able to heal him…
Pearl, who had turned her back on him by refusing to do what, later on, someone else had done for him…
And K, who had been the worst of them all…
He sat in the corner of the training room, watching the lower agents train in the hopes they would achieve the 00-Agent status he and Nick held so highly. Justin was one of the youngest, but he knew he had earned his position; he intended to keep it.
Groaning quietly, he held the ice pack to his head. The temporary medicine Red Jewel had given him to lessen the swelling was wearing off. He could hear the incessant thumping, Indian bongo drums in his mind, signaling with its mental beat that the injury was returning at a rapid pace.
The drumming sound was ironic, as that was his very own alias, as well as the charm Pearl had given to him as a weapon: Drums
Irony.
It sickened him, and he pleaded for a cure. But he would find one. He would. Himitsu Takana was still his home, and they would help him. Even if Red could not cure him. Even if Pearl refused to use her robotics to replace that eye and stop the abnormal growth of his head. He would find a way.
A sudden movement caught his good eye, piquing his interest. Beneath him, Diamond blew a kiss at 011, Leonardo DiCaprio — code name Vitruvian. She pirouetted when Vitruvian reached her, then kicked him square in the chest, knocking him to the mat beneath them. As she giggled, then helped him up, Justin smirked. She didn’t look it, and you’d never know in bed, but there was a reason she ranked just below him at 010.
But he’d make sure she remained rank 010; Justin would not let anyone usurp his position. He had worked for it and earned it, so he would protect it like a precious child. He and his friends were all alike in that way.
And yet, they had betrayed him and left him all alone. He would eventually forgive them, he supposed. By the time he found a cure.
The phone interrupted Justin’s train of thought as the theme to Star Wars hummed on his phone. He glanced down at the silver phone as “GRANDMA” ran across the caller ID. Grandma… What did K want now? Tiredly, he ran his free hand over the mop of blond curls on his swollen head.
When Justin reached K’s office, his superior stood from the seat behind his mahogany desk.
“Justin.” That got his attention; K always addressed the agents by number.
“K… you needed ta see me?” Droplets of water streamed down his face from the now useless ice pack.
“We need to talk. It’s about your injury.”
“I’m gonna find a cure, yo.”
K cleared his throat. “In the meantime, you will be reassigned. As you know, fieldwork requires perfect vision.”
“Reassigned? Ta where?” Justin shouted.
“004 could use your talent to assist with the new recruits.”
“So you makin’ me a glorified secretary?!” Justin couldn’t believe his ears.
No.
Not after everything he’d done, everything he’d given up! He was dedicated to Himitsu Takana! He had risked his life countless times and even given up his own eye! K couldn’t be saying what he thought he was.
“Please refrain from insulting secretarial work, an asset in our day-to-day operations. But no, I did not imply you would become a secretary, Justin.”
Justin’s hand shook against the melting ice pack. “You keep callin’ me Justin and not 009… You replacin’ me?! Wit who?!”
“Reassigning.”
“Dis is bullshit, K!” he screamed, showing only a fraction of the hurt that plagued him.
“Justin, this is anything but personal. Order and justice require rules and no one is exempt from protocol.”
“It’s Diamond, isn’t it? Nick fucks me up, and you reward him?! Dis is bullshit, K. BULLSHIT!” He raced out of the office, unable to look K in the eye after his betrayal. How could K just replace him when he had earned 009? When he was the superior choice? Over a temporary injury?
As these thoughts tore through Justin’s mind, he blindly sprinted through HimTak’s cavernous halls until he rounded a corner and slammed into another person.
“Sorry… Drums?”
After blinking focus back into his good eye, Justin’s gaze settled on not just any other person, but Nick… his brother in arms… former brother in arms.
Nick winced and grunted as he pulled himself from the ground, clutching his injured arm near his wrist as a sling held his shoulder in place. A shoulder wrapped in bandages he could just remove, held by a sling he could just discard.
Justin gritted his teeth.
When Nick stood, he stared at the floor. “How are you doing?”
They hadn’t spoken since they got back and all Nick could think to ask him was how he was doing?! He probably already knew that K demoted him, that K wanted him gone. “Bet you happy.”
Nick remained silent and motionless.
“You just couldn’t wait ta get rid of me! You thought I was stealin’ yo’ glory! You thought I was stealin’ da things you wanted!”
“What?” Nick flinched, snapping his gaze toward Justin’s. “That’s–”
Before Nick could finish, Justin hooked his fist into Nick’s cheek.
Momentarily stunned, Nick stared at Justin. “What are you talking about?!” This time, when Justin swung at him, Nick blocked, then jumped back. “We’re like brothers!”
“We was like brothas! But you picked some bimbo ovah me! And told K ta let her take mah rank!”
“Di’s gonna… I didn’t do any of that!”
Frustratingly, Nick refused to hit him, merely blocking each blow. And even more frustratingly, his own punches kept missing. He snarled, remembering that K thought he was a liability over his eye. “You was jus’ waitin’ ta shoot me! Ovah a ho!”
“I didn’t shoot you!”
“Yeah, you missed, ’cause you a lousy agent!” This time, Justin’s fist connected with Nick’s nose, knocking him backward to the ground. Rage boiled through Justin’s body. “And an even worse homie!”
Nick clutched his head. “We’ll fix this! There’s time!”
“Time? I ain’t givin’ K time to demote me or get rid of me. I’m leavin’. And if you any kind of brotha, don’t stop me.” Justin shoved past Nick and stormed down the hallway.
Pride. Family. Brotherhood. All he knew meant nothing.
Really, it had only been a matter of time until he faced his former comrades in his new line of work. Diamond had obviously replaced him as K intended. And Nick carried on like there wasn’t any damage. His shoulder clearly still worked, so he had nothing to hide.
Justin had enjoyed no such luxury, and people would cower when they saw his face. As they should cower. He would show them all the bitter taste of betrayal that he had experienced when they had turned their backs on him. They would taste it. He would shove it down their throats if he had to. But of them all, Jay, Nick, Pearl, and Red were the ones most deserving. Had they saved him then, K would have never forced him to leave. He would make them taste his revenge against the agency that had done him in. Against the agents who had twisted the knife Nick had thrust into his back. They would taste it.
And they would be feasting on it far sooner than they realized.
***
Nick idly ran his hand up and down Diamond’s thigh as they sat in the auditorium surrounded by the finals for Global Idol. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d be called up to sing again at some point. Somehow, he had managed to fumble through yet another round of the Global Idol competition. But Nick didn’t care about that now (not that he had really cared any other time). He found it impossible to pay attention to the auditions playing out before him.
He couldn’t get Justin out of his head.
The image of his former accomplice remained ingrained in Nick’s memory. He kept picturing Drums’ face, sneering and bitter, his features marred by the black metal band that encircled his head and the electric red glow of the optical device implanted where his right eye had once been. Try as he might to focus on anything else, Nick could not forget it. The change in Drums had shocked him. The former agent seemed almost more machine than man now, metal and cold.
So very cold.
Nick could understand the bitterness. It wasn’t fair that his 00-rank would be stripped away by an accident… that wasn’t even his fault. But rules were rules, and Himitsu Takana held its agents to certain physical standards, which included perfect vision. Justin had known that, as did Nick and Diamond and every other agent.
So what had happened? How had he gone so wrong? How, in a matter of months, had he been corrupted and twisted into a monster who fought for the enemy?
Just like that, the friendly rivalry they’d always had became hostile. The malice that had shown in Justin’s one remaining eye was proof enough of that. Remembering the latter’s icy expression, as hard and cold as his new metal headdress, left a bitter taste in Nick’s mouth.
He swallowed with difficulty, his throat feeling tight and dry.
The girl currently on stage was using the same excuse to explain her horrific croaking of a Celine Dion song. “My throat was just really dry,” she lamented with pleading eyes, silently begging the judges to give her another chance. “I know I can sing that song a lot better.”
“Poor song choice, either way,” came the British judge’s curt reply. “That song was too big for your voice. I’m not sure you’ve got what it takes to move forward in the competition. You just might be out of your league.”
“Please, I know I can do it!” the girl continued to beg, sounding near tears.
A light jab in the ribs caused Nick to turn to Diamond, who didn’t hesitate in rolling her eyes at him. “These fake auditions are the worst,” she hissed into his ear, her warm breath tickling his neck as she leaned close. “You know the only reason she’s still up there is ’cause she’s hot.”
Nick, who hadn’t been paying much attention until now, eyed the girl again, taking in her appearance. She was indeed pretty. Though he preferred blondes to brunettes, he couldn’t help but admire her long legs and the perfect pair of breasts swelling out of the plunging neckline of her tight minidress. Diamond was right — she couldn’t sing — but she was certainly nice to look at onstage.
But not for much longer. The show’s host, Mark McGrath, formerly of the band Sugar Ray, soon joined her on the stage. After putting his arm around her and murmuring comforting words to her, he proceeded to look up and find one of the cameras recording the entire thing. Staring directly into it, he announced, “Will Jasmine move on to the next round? Find out… after the break!”
Nick rolled his eyes. This sort of thing had happened after every few contestants. He supposed the producers had to get the commercial breaks scripted in during the filming, but they were getting a little ridiculous. He was anxious to get out of here and track down Drums.
“Where do you think he went?” he asked Diamond in a low voice. His eyes swept the large auditorium, wondering if his rival was even still in the MGM Grand.
“Mark? He keeps going by the curtains.”
“Drums! Who else are we looking for?” snapped Nick irritably, more frustrated at himself for not having any ideas either. “Has Pearl sent you anything?”
“No, just Lancy.” Diamond flashed her screen, showing a long rant from Lancy about how Celine Dion was a treasure.
Nick decided he had better check in with Pearl. Maybe she had some insight on where they could find Drums. Hunching low in his seat, Nick bent over the “watch” on his wrist and fumbled with its many buttons, trying to remember which one would connect him with headquarters. He was still getting used to Pearl’s little gadget.
Voices onstage caused him to glance up momentarily; a new contestant stood beside Mark McGrath now.
“…and what are you going to sing?” Mark asked him, holding his microphone towards the contestant.
Not caring, Nick’s head dropped back to the watch again.
“I’ll be singing…” The contestant cut off suddenly as if he’d forgotten what he would be singing. Nick glanced up again, just as the guy seemed to get his bearings and finished, “…Mr. Roboto… by Styx.”
He said this in a very robotic monotone, and Nick, figuring he was trying to be funny, shook his head and returned to playing with his watch.
In the background, the guy on stage started to sing, “You’re wondering who I am… machine or mannequin… with parts made in Japan…”
His finger poised over the contact button on his watch, Nick’s memory went full circle, suddenly returning to the image of Justin and his mechanical headpiece and eye.
“I’ve got a secret I’ve been hiding under my skin
My heart is human, my blood is boiling, my brain IBM
So if you see me, acting strangely, don’t be surprised
I’m just a man who needed someone, and somewhere to hide
To keep me alive… just keep me alive…”
Unable to concentrate on anything but the image of Justin and his bitter sneer, Nick swallowed with difficulty, once again overcome by the guilt he harbored over the whole situation. A part of him hated Justin for becoming what he had, and yet, a part of him just felt sorry.
“Nick? What’s going on?” Pearl’s voice suddenly crackled from his watch, just loud enough for him to hear. She provided a welcomed distraction for Nick, who looked down at her image on the watch’s tiny display screen at once. She looked and sounded slightly frazzled, he realized.
“Um… nothing new, really,” he whispered into the watch. “No sign of Drums. We were wondering if you knew anything to help us find him again.”
“Let me check the other camera feeds. I’ll get back to you,” promised Pearl, and her face disappeared from his screen.
“I am the modern man… who hides behind a mask… so no one else can see… my true identity!” belted the guy on stage, raising his arms above his head.
And then, something strange happened. A chanting chorus rose above his voice, singing, “Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto… domo….”
“Domo,” echoed the contestant.
“Domo.”
“Domo.”
“Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto… domo arigato, Mr. Roboto… domo arigato, Mr. Roboto…”
The same eerie drone filled the auditorium. Everyone he could see sang monotonously with their eyes fixed straight ahead and their feet planted firmly against the floor. Only their arms moved, and stiffly so, doing “the robot”… in perfect unison.
Even the three judges up in the front were on their feet, singing and doing the robotic choreography in the exact same way as the audience. And stranger yet, the cameramen had abandoned their cameras and were singing and dancing too.
The sight was so unsettling that it made the hairs on the back of Nick’s neck stand on end. Skin prickling, he turned quickly to Diamond…
…and was met with a terrifying realization.
Diamond was doing it, too.
“Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto… domo arigato, Mr. Roboto…” It was her voice, but the flirtatious playfulness in it was gone. She sang in a dreary monotone that was void of all personality. Her arms moved stiffly, and her shaking hips and shimmying bosoms were oddly still.
“Diamond, what are you doing?!” he cried in horror, slugging her in the shoulder. Her body swayed to the side with the force of his nudge, but she didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. She just kept up her robotic routine, singing flatly.
It was as if she’d been hypnotized, somehow lulled into this almost-catatonic state. The entire room seemed to be in some type of trance, he realized. There was no other explanation.
“Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto…” they kept singing, and he looked around frantically, wishing he could find someone else like him, anyone who remained unhypnotized.
But there was no one. They were all singing. Even Mark McGrath, who stood off to the side of the stage, held out his microphone towards the audience, picking up their robotic chorus.
“Nick?”
The sound of his name attracted Nick’s attention back to his watch, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Pearl was back. He wondered how much she knew about hypnosis.
“Nick, he’s not showing up on any of our cameras,” said Pearl, looking flustered. “He’s either left the building, or he’s hiding somewhere out of our sight. I would keep searching the premises, just in case.”
“Forget that for now,” Nick replied impatiently. “We’ve got bigger problems!”
And he turned his watch toward Diamond, who was still singing along, glassy-eyed. “Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto…”
***