Page 28 of Wetweb


  Chapter 14

  The door with the thick glass window swung open and a disinterested guard escorted Anand into the interview room. Franklin was surprised by the transformation. He had not seen Anand for two days but in that time, Anand had lost some considerable weight. His skin looked thin and moist across his face. His casual confidence was gone. He looked hunted, he looked scared.

  Franklin half rose uncomfortably from his seat, his thigh muscles struggling to support his weight, he thought he should help Anand on his way to the steel chair, but then extinguished that thought because he realized that Anand’s masculine pride would be offended. And so, Franklin relaxed his straining thigh muscles and resettled his bulk back into the steel chair. Anand shuffled to the table. His ankles were shackled together, and a chain connected his ankles to his wrists which were similarly hand-cuffed together.

  Franklin watched Anand settle into the steel chair opposite from him, and felt hot shame and pity burning behind his eyes. Franklin dared not speak any words of succor. Any mention of his pitiful state or any words of encouragement may offend this proud mans dignity. Franklin attempted to swallow his reaction as he looked across the table and saw black circles under Anand’s brown eyes. Anand’s shrunken cheeks were stubbled with white whiskers.

  Franklin waited quietly, biting his tongue. Presently, Anand gathered his strength and settled back into the steel chair. He crossed his legs and assumed a reasonable imitation of the man Franklin had left two days ago.

  Anand forced a smile exposing uneven teeth and said, “They have set my execution date, did they tell you?”

  Franklin responded quietly, “I had not heard.”

  “Yes,” Anand continued, “Tonight at midnight I will leave this world that I have offended and I will find my way into the next world that waits for me.”

  “I am sorry,” Franklin said, “I had not heard.”

  “Al McKnight and I will go at the same time,” Anand responded, “ We will be together again at the very end.”

  Franklin was unsure if this conversation was part of the biography. Uncomfortably, gingerly, he picked up his pen and began making notes.

  Anand continued, “I have found a kind of peace with the idea. Like Socrates before me, I will die by a poison administered by the state which I attempted to serve.”

  Franklin felt small. His adventures of the last few days, his efforts to ‘see the real world’ now seemed insignificant in the face of this news. Anand was a great man. A man who had changed the world, and now his life would reach an ignoble end. Without dignity, without drama, without recognition, without friends, without family, without Sahdna Singh. Franklin realized that he alone was aware of this moment in history. Franklin himself would chronicle the end of an era.

  Within less than fifteen hours Anand Ramasubramanian, architect of the WetWeb, would slip away from this earth. They would leave as cleanly and quietly as the poison that would slip into their veins; as if the poison itself was a negative life force, an antidote for life.

  Franklin imagined the Executioner inserting a giant syringe at the top of Anand’s head, and as the executioner pushed down on the plunger sparkling life would stream from Anand’s fingers and toes. As the Executioner continued to push, dark poison would descend down through Anand rendering him lifeless from the top down. First his face would turn grey, then his torso, then his arms and thighs, then his legs, and then at last, he would be gone.

  The quiet of the room closed around them. The scratching of the pen as Franklin’s fanciful imaginings of the death scene of Anand filled the room until it was done. When Franklin finished writing, it was quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. This was no longer an interview. Franklin was now part of history.

  “I took a walk,” Franklin offered.

  Anand was listening, he looked up.

  “A walk,” Anand repeated.

  “Yes,” Franklin continued, “I thought about what you said that I needed to see the world around me; that the WetWeb touches me and everyone around me. I decided to see for myself, so I took a walk.”

  Anand grimaced when he smiled. He seemed like a boxer who had lost the fight, but despite the pain, was a good sport at the post fight interview. He was ready to stand up for the media.

  “What did you see?” Anand asked.

  “I went for a walk at night, into a new neighborhood, somewhere I have never been before.” Franklin explained, “I found a bar, and met people who are interested in old style books. They never Synap in to the WetWeb, and they never utilize Synapse suits to realize experiential features.”

  Anand seemed to brighten at this, but he did not say anything.

  “They asked me to speak in front of their group. They asked me to read from my work… I mean our work. They wanted to hear your story. The history of the WetWeb.”

  “Did you?” Anand asked.

  “Yes, I did,” Franklin said, “But even before that, before I had a chance to speak before that group, I had begun to see some other things around me that were odd. So, I spoke about these things too.

  “What?” Anand pressed, “Tell me, what is odd?”

  Franklin grew more animated and then continued, “I noticed Warmbots are watching me, the Warmbots are following me, and this is not all. There is something not right with people too. I first noticed it when I went into the Savant Organic Robotics Dealership on L Street.”

  “What was it, what happened at Savant?” Anand said as he leaned forward with interest.

  The chains on his wrists rattled loudly as he brought his hands up onto the steel table, gesticulating, imploring Franklin to hand over the information.

  “Tell me,” he insisted.

  “I have trouble describing it,” Franklin said.

  “It was an odd sense of Déjà vu. But not just that, because I know I had been here before. I had been there only a few days ago and I recognized the place clearly from when Blanco, my old Warmbot, died. No, this was not Déjà vu, it was something different. It was something in the way the sales-lady talked with me. It was as if there was something wrong with reality.

  “She came up to me holding out her arm, straight at the elbow, and shook my hand. She introduced herself saying...”

 
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