Evil Maybe

Chapter 3- Max

As per a usual Saturday night, I was holed up in my room with my book on my lap, ignoring everyone. It was a beautiful day, surprisingly cool for the warmer months of the year, but it’s not like that mattered to me.

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages,” My fingers traced over the words in fading ink faithfully. _The Complete Works of Shakespeare_ is my favorite book- or rather, anthology- given to me by my mother. We used to it read together when I was younger. Turning the page, I bit into the apple I smuggled into my room, careful not to let any juice drip onto the worn pages.

Not moments later, I heard knocking on my door. My brother Norman barged right in, walking straight towards me.

“Come in,” I said dryly, raising an eyebrow even after he’d already sat on my bed.

“Can you do me a favor and beat this level, little bro?” He shoved his PlayStation controller into my hands, knocking my apple to the ground. I wanted to yell in protest, but then my father would hear us and lecture us, and we got enough of those as it was.

“First of all, you’re smuggling me a new apple. And second of all, is that all I am to you? A hack to beat your video games? Not the coolest brother ever in existence? And also, you have never called me bro in your life.”

Norman looked at me with pleading eyes, sticking out his lower lip in a childish pout I didn’t usually associate him with.

I let out a mock weary sigh. “Let’s go. But never call me bro again.” He cheered, I stood up, and together we walked to his room.

I dropped myself onto his bed. Glancing at the screen shows me that the game is Castle Siege 3. I’d already beaten this game four times, easily.

“What level are you on?” I asked offhandedly, settling myself on the floor so I was leaning against the side of his bed.

Norman hesitated. “Level 47,” he said finally.

I burst out laughing. “Wow,” I said between fits of laughs, “You’re worse than I thought you were.”

He shoved me and pressed the *X* button to start the game. The familiar theme music played as the character walked onto the screen. I noticed he had chosen one of the weakest characters in the game, Fay. Why, I had no idea. There wasn’t any benefit to choosing that character, and it would make my life a little harder, as there weren’t any special moves or anything. But I knew I could still beat the level.

I pressed the buttons methodically and began to fall into my rhythm. When I’m playing games, I sort of fall into this groove where everything makes sense. Every game has a pattern, and once you figured it out, everything was simple. I dodged, ducked, and attacked, a repetitive cycle. I repeated a few simple combos and even yawned once or twice. I beat the level in record time- one minute twelve seconds. My brother just stared in astonishment.

There were not many times in my life where I was given the opportunity to gloat, but now that one presented itself, I was going to milk it for all it was worth. “Oh God, so hard! The pain!” I cried in mock desperation. I flopped backwards, rolling off the bed, pretending to faint with an amused smirk.

“Shut up, loser!” Norman said with a mischievous grin as he tackled me and put me in a light headlock. I grabbed at his arm, laughing and still making sarcastic declarations of pain, but he managed to pull me up towards the bed and toss me on top of it again. Once that was done, he pinned me to the bed with his hands on my shoulders easily.

“Okay, okay I get it!” I cried out, still laughing. His face filled with mirth as he barked a triumphant, one-syllable laugh. He leaned towards me with a pompous smile.

“Face it, brother. I’ll always be better than you.”

My face went slack as I let the words sink in. Really, when I thought about it, he was right. I had no reason to brag. I didn’t know much, and he was one of the higher-up children in the ranks. He’d always been dad’s favorite, as much as he may have tried to hide it- which, for the record, wasn’t much. My skills weren’t as highly valued, and since I didn’t have any power as far as I knew, I was automatically considered inferior. So yeah, he _was_ better than me. In pretty much every aspect. But he was my brother, so I wouldn’t let him get away with it, even if it was true. I was about to shoot something sarcastic right back at him when our father walked in.

Our father was a rapt man. His hair was graying only slightly and you could never catch him without a perfectly done up suit. Even at home he wore dress shirts and trousers and usually a vest. He always had an erect back and a grimacing, set jaw. He never let down his guard or his air of professionalism. As Vice President, how could he afford to?

So naturally, I thought this man was not my father.

The man standing in my doorway was completely disheveled and looked exhausted. His tie was loose around his neck, he wore no vest, and his wrinkled dress shirt sleeves were rolled up and unbuttoned. His hair seemed more grey than brown today and he appeared lost in his own house, so small for such a usually menacing man. His face was slack and tight at the same time and- was that worry? He appeared utterly burned out as he leaned tiredly against the doorway.

He surveyed our little scene with weary eyes- video games after the permitted time, wrestling when not in combat training. Breaking so many rules. But he only looked straight on at us. I’d never seen a gaze so blank and numb come from our father. Norman and I both stumbled off the bed and stood up straight.

“Is something wrong, Father?” Norman asked dutifully, hesitance concealed in his voice. I could see his hands shaking a little. Our father looked back up at us slowly.

“The ENDER,” he murmured, all usual hardness in his voice vanished.

“What about it, Father?” I’d heard about the rumored machine before- unlimited power and unstoppable strength. No one had seen it, except for the higher ups. It was somewhat of a legend, like most of the governmental matters in our society. Norman and I had a bit of an upper hand, considering our father had such a vital position. It wasn’t much, but it was something. All I really knew of the ENDER was that only people with incredible strength or genius were allowed to even be in the same room as it, and that it had a ridiculous amount of power. What that was, I didn’t know. And I wouldn’t be finding out any time soon.

“They’ve taken it,” he said. “THINK.”

I was stunned. There was incredible security around the machine. I designed some of it. It was one of the only hands I had in the community.

Norman voiced my thoughts. “What? That’s bull. I-“ My brother’s voice was cut off by my father’s eyes going harsh and cold at his casual language. Too conversational, I supposed. I also supposed that it was stupid that we had to be formal with our father, but I usually kept that thought buried. Norman shook his head with a tiny grimace and tried again.

“That’s unheard of, sir. How did they manage that?”

My father tensed again, rubbing his hand roughly from his temple down to his unshaven jaw. “As per their usual ways, no harm was done to anything. They somehow managed to get past the guards stationed around the safe without hurting any of them. They got past the actual safe, which was face recognition accessible only, and then got past the twelve locks without breaking anything. Then they got past the laser motion sensors without destroying any of the tech, grabbed the ENDER, and left without being noticed by anyone. How did they do it?”

He walked in and began to pace about. Rhythmic, calculated steps made thuds on the floor. It was like water torture. We were waiting for that final step, where he would lash out and start yelling, or worse; where the tiredness would fade to anger. We stood completely still, every sense on high alert, muscles tensed. Norman still stared at Father, gaping at the pure insanity and sheer improbability of the situation at hand.

Hidden behind the fear pushing to the forefront of my mind was shame. The part of security I had worked on was the laser sensors. I wouldn’t be so abashed if they’d broken my tech. If they’d destroyed it completely, I would know it was because they couldn’t work around it. But they didn’t do anything to it. It was left completely alone. Like it wasn’t there. And that meant it was weak enough that breaking it wasn’t even necessary. It was just a blip in their plan. I had designed that thing to be impassable, but THINK just went right through without a problem. Once again, I wasn’t good enough. Just another way I was the failure of my family, besides not having any powers like the rest of the lot.

I stared openmouthed at the floor trying to comprehend all that had happened in the past five minutes. My brain was turning in circles, dizzying me, too quick to keep up with. The loop of my mind was interrupted by my father speaking again.

“Boys,” he said with the same worn voice and tired eyes,

“This is war.”