The Cause

Originally sent to newsletter subscribers in December, 2023. Sign up for the free newsletter now to receive exclusive stories months in advance.

The lights above are blinding, even through my closed lids. My mouth is dry. My skin is cold and stiff. The room smells strange, like a mixture of oil and pomegranate.

“Ma’am, he’s stirring.”

The voice sounds abnormally loud, ringing as if spoken directly into my ear, though I cannot sense anyone near me. I attempt to open my mouth to speak, but find I cannot move my jaw. In fact, my entire body has been immobilized.

“Very well,” a woman’s voice replies. “Remove the M-Blocks and V-Blocks.”

Something vibrates inside of me for a moment, then stops as a weight is lifted from my body. I sit up, groaning against the soreness in my legs and back.

“Easy,” the woman says. “Move slowly. It will help you to adapt if you do not rush.”

It takes a great effort, but I manage to slow down enough to allow my body to relax. Once upright, I open my eyes, squinting against the light. The room around me is completely white, devoid of any furniture or ornamentation, except for the bed where I find myself.

“Readings normal.” A young man of perhaps twenty recites a list of medical statistics, though there is no equipment in the room.

“Very well.” The woman turns to me and kneels. He hair tumbles over the left side of her face, though a portion of metallic skin shines through. Her eyes glow a deep green as she examines me. “Hello, Mr. Ilkos. My name is Dr. Eileen Miller.”

“How do you know my name?” My voice sounds slightly off, like it’s being enhanced. It’s almost the same, but something is different.

“In time,” she replies. “I want to first congratulate you on this opportunity. You are one of the select few who have been chosen to join us. Not many humans are deemed worthy of our Cause, but you have been judged to be deserving of this Promotion.”

“Promotion? I didn’t apply for any promotion. Who are you? You don’t work for the University.”

“This is not a Promotion of your employment, but of your life, your entire existence.”

“What are you talking about?” My anger is rising. I move to stand, but the familiar weight returns to my body and I find myself frozen in place.

“M-Block reinitiated.”

“Thank you, Gerald, but that will not be necessary.” Dr. Miller waves her hand and I’m able to move again, though I keep myself seated out of fear of the M-Block, whatever that is. “Mr. Ilkos, is it okay if I call you Carter?”

“Sure, fine, whatever. Call me whatever as long as you tell me what is going on here.”

“I think I may take a different approach, based on the data collected from our observations.” She turns to Gerald. “Please remove all Blocks from Mr. Ilkos.”

“All of them, ma’am?” He looks scared, unsure whether to follow the orders of his superior in spite of some perceived danger. “Even the C-Block?”

“All of them.”

A world of color erupts before my eyes. Readings and data flash through my vision faster than I can track. My body feels strong and light, like I could spring off the bed and touch the ceiling at any moment. Weather reports, news stories, and music bounce in and out of my hearing. It’s all too much at once. I reach up and grab my head to focus. My fingers come in contact with something cold and hard, like metal. I wish I could see myself.

Unprompted, a view of the room pops up. Through the lens, I see myself turn to look up into the corner of the room, where there is no camera. However, I get a look at my face and fall back onto the bed. “What is going on? What did you do to me? Half of my head is metal. How? Why?”

“Mr. Ilkos, please try to calm yourself,” Dr. Miller says.

I do as instructed, afraid I may pass out from the panic. The words “Anti-Anxiety Compound Administered” flash in the corner of my vision. Within moments, I feel my heart slowing. Cautiously, I turn to Dr. Miller and nod. “Please. Explain.”

“Carter, can you describe to me what you looked like before today?” she says. “You are correct, you have had synthetic metal components integrated with your biological body. But can you describe your appearance before receiving these enhancements?”

I search my mind as best I can, desperately trying to ignore the constant bombardment of information, but come up with nothing. In fact, other than a few pieces of personal information, I fail to recall anything about my life before waking up in this room.

“I cannot remember,” I say. “It’s all gone. What happened? Who am I?”

“Tell me who you are,” Dr. Miller says.

“My name is Doctor Carter Ilkos.” I latch onto the sparse details I remember. “I am a biologist at… some University. I study the effects of different natural neurotrophics on brain chemistry and ability. I have thick, curly black hair.”

“You know that from seeing yourself,” Dr. Miller interrupts. “Please, only state personal details you recall from memory. What about your facial structure? Has anything changed?”

I think for a moment. “I don’t remember.”

“Anything else?”

“I have always dreamed of opening a tea house after I retire, so I can put my knowledge of plant life to use as a way of bringing people together.”

Dr. Miller nods to Gerald, who turns and leaves through a door that is perfectly flush with the wall around it. “And that is now what you shall do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Over the next several days, your biological and mechanical parts will continue to unify and amalgamate with one another.” Dr. Miller paces around the room as if giving a lecture. “You will become aware of exactly what you are capable of. Your mind will expand and evolve along with your physical capabilities. You will assimilate into our society, which you will find runs on trust, mutual acknowledgment of intelligence, and the goal of furthering our Cause.”

“And what cause is that?”

“The Cause is the betterment of humanity in hopes that one day all be worthy of joining us here.”

It sounds good, in theory. “How am I supposed to help with that?”

“By making tea.” She shrugs her shoulders. “You said yourself that you want to bring people together and share your knowledge of vegetation with others. This is your opportunity to do so. You will have your own shop, laboratory, and garden. Whatever you need in order to create tea that reaches others, will be yours. You may experiment and research as much as you wish. I think you will find that the varieties that grow here will interest you even more than those found on Earth, though all will be available to you.”

“But how will that help this Cause?”

“Give it time,” she says. “Once you are fully integrated with your enhancements, your role will become clear. Welcome, Dr. Ilkos, to the Empyre.”

#

The Empyre has treated me quite well. I am approximately ninety-three precent assimilated into the culture of this place, though I occasionally revert to my primitive understandings from before my mind was opened. My cybernetic enhancements give me the ability to conduct experiments in the blink of an eye, remain in a waking state for days without needing to recharge, and produce far more force than any normal human. My mind has access to the Core, which provides information and readings instantly while allowing me to communicate messages, images, and recordings to others in milliseconds.

Since arriving, I have created seventeen new hybrid strains all based around a standard Japanese sencha tea leaf. Tomorrow, after my resting period, I plan to begin synthesizing new matcha varieties. I am undecided as to how best to incorporate my new strains into the process of creating matcha, though I suspect my suspended sleep state will allow me ample time to devise a plan of procedure.

In addition to my work with cultivation, I have also made one hundred seventy-three new connections, thirteen of which I would classify as “close connections.” Of those thirteen, I have developed a “deep connection” with one, an animal hormone researcher called Jah’van. He has visited my shop eight of the last eleven waking days, including four days in a row. I believe he may be preparing to invite me for a romantic dinner, which I will happily accept.

Lastly, I have succeeded in procuring various plants and fungi common on Earth’s atmosphere, along with their closest Empyrean relatives. I am in the process of analyzing the effects of the compounds within these new species and how they may affect the modified forms of those living in the Empyre. Thus far, I have kept many of my Blocks engaged while testing, so as to prevent harm from coming to those around me. I would not like to be responsible for what my happen if my C-Block was lifted and I had an adverse reaction to some new substance. The damage would be immense.

“Excuse me, I would like one Sencha Variety Four, please.”

I turn in a perfect circle. Before me stands a tall being made almost entirely of metal. Very few organic parts remain of their face. “Yes. Please, give me one minute and fourteen seconds.”

The being nods as I turn to prepare the cup of tea. Variety Four is a strain I created by cross-breeding traditional sencha tea plants with an Empyrean leaf called musjon. It creates a flavor profile reminiscent of a roasted peanut mixed with the standard vegetal taste of green tea. The relatively low caffeine content of the strain combine with the other nutrients to create a slightly sedative effect unlike the expected results of caffeine. The discovery was shocking and, after sharing the information on the Core, has led to numerous advances in other culinary fields. It has quickly become my most popular product.

The water has finished steeping. Twenty-two seconds before the cup is due to be delivered to the customer, I remove the pot from the heat. With one final leaf spread across the top of a cup, I pour the tea. The nearly boiling liquid seeps through the leaf, incorporating just enough to meld the various notes into a uniform flavor.

“Here is your tea.”

The being takes the steaming cup from my hands, both of us unfazed by the high temperature of the material. “Thank you. Good day.”

“Good day.”

“Dr. Ilkos, we need to talk.”

Startled, I spin around. I had failed to notice the alerts that someone was approaching through the rear of my shop. Perhaps I should re-evaluate. I am, in fact, only ninety-two percent assimilated. “Dr. Miller. What can I do for you?”

“I’m taking you into protective custody.” Dr. Miller pulls me by the arm toward the back exit. I send an update through the Core that my shop will remained closed until an issue is addressed, for the Cause. “I want you to remove all of your Blocks, including your C-Block. Someone is here. They are looking for you and they have proven they are willing to take Empyre lives to get to you.”

“Who is it?”

“I would prefer to keep that information private.”

I narrow my focus, staring into her eyes. “Tell me.”

“Very well.” She sends an image through the Core and into my vision. “It’s your daughter.”

#

I still remember the day my father was taken from me. We were walking along like any other Saturday, going to our favorite little café here in Charleston. We took the same alley we always take to avoid the busy intersection. In a split second, there were four people standing in front of us. They were wearing some kind of thick mesh suits that covered their entire bodies, including their faces.

One of them stepped forward and her suit parted to show her face, half of which had been replaced with metal and robotic parts. “Dr. Ilkos, you will come with us now. You have been chosen to join us in the Empyre.”

There was no grand display of lights, no green wormhole opening before my eyes, nothing. One second he was there, the next he was gone, along with three of the strange people. The only one remaining was the lady who had spoken. I didn’t know how she knew his name, but I assumed that if she could survive as a cyborg then she could probably figure out basic personal information. She walked up to me and put her hand on my shoulder, though the motion felt stiff and forced, like she had rehearsed it in the mirror but never actually tried it on a real person.

“Elys, I am sorry for your loss,” she said. “Your father is a great man, one of the best of humanity. That is why he has been chosen. You will never see him again, but know that he has been given a higher purpose, to further our Cause.”

With that, she vanished. I didn’t even get a chance to speak. I was left alone in the middle of the alley, with nothing to show my father had ever been there beside me.

I spent the next year scouring the internet for people like me. Those who had lost loved ones to mysterious robot people weren’t often the most accessible. Just like me, I’m sure they were used to being ignored and ridiculed for what they saw. I ran into more than a few delusional people who had clearly had some kind of hallucination, but I also met dozens of others who had lived the same horrific, traumatic experience as me.

With their help, and hundreds of hours of research, I was able to compile a list of candidates for future abductions. As best as I could tell with my limited information, they seemed to occur once every sixteen days, though I could never find any connection to that number. I won’t mince words, I stalked people on my list for months. Many of them were taken, just not when I was waiting for them. There were some days where someone completely unexpected was abducted, but I never got discouraged. I held out hope that one day I would catch those responsible for taking my father away from me.

Then, just one week ago, it happened. I was following renowned painter Mylika Porgue and her girlfriend through the streets of Atlanta when they showed up. I was hidden behind a dumpster when, without warning, four individuals appeared before them. Just like before, one of them stepped forward and removed their mask, though it was not the same woman who spoke to me.

I watched from my position as she informed Mylika that she had been chosen. When she vanished along with the three other robotic humans, I made my move. The remaining cyborg, the one who had uncovered his face, stepped forward and put his hand on Mylika’s girlfriend’s shoulder. He was clearly even more uncomfortable with the act than the woman who did the same with me. I lifted my arm and fired two rounds from the gun I purchased after losing my dad.

Both bullets found their mark. The man fell to the ground as Mylika’s girlfriend let out a scream. I sprinted the short distance between us and grasped her by the shoulders. “Please, be quiet, and help me. We need to move him.”

“Why should I help you? You killed him.” Her wails sharpened the headache which had formed.

“Because,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “I’m going to take his suit and I’m going to get you girlfriend back.”

“How?” she said, quieter now. “Who are these people? Why are you helping me?”

“I don’t know who they are, but they took my father.” I motioned for her to grab the man’s legs as I bent to lift his arms. “Now, I’m going to take him back.”

I have spent the last week testing the suit. There is some kind of device which was connected to the neck of the cybernetic man I killed. I have, so far, refrained from attempting to connect with the device. Even without it, the suit is amazing. I was careful at first, given the fact that I have just one suit and no way of obtaining another one any time soon. But it quickly became apparent there was little I could do to damage it. Whatever this material is, it’s durable enough to withstand an acetylene torch, a freezer, and several gunshots without losing any of its original integrity. I tried connecting it to my computer, but none of the ports matched up. I have a feeling my laptop wouldn’t be powerful enough to process even a fraction of the information in the suit, anyway.

Now, my testing is done. I’ve waited long enough. I was able to go through various channels to purchase several more guns. There is nothing more I can do except take the leap.

I pull the suit over my clothes. The feeling of it forming and fitting to my body no longer startles me. Within a second, it is like a second set of skin. Fireproof, bulletproof skin. The mask forms in front of my face, though slower than the rest of the suit. Once enclosed, the material allows me to see through it while obscuring my face from anyone looking on, much like one-way glass. A message reading, “Return?” appears before my eyes, just as it has many times before.

The only way I have found to influence the suit is to think, so I gather my supplies and think as hard as I can, “Yes. Return.”

A strange sensation overtakes my body, like my very cells are vibrating. In an instant, I find myself standing in the middle of a white room. An empty operating table sits before me, but I am otherwise alone. The suit indicates to me that we’ve returned to the Empyre, whatever that is. A smile forms on my face as a wave of relief washes over me. I stifle it. My work is only just beginning.

That woman was right about one thing. My father is a great man, and she took him from me. Now, I’m going to take him back. I don’t care how many of them I have to kill to do it.