Madman's Ball

Doctor Lena was escorted into the cavernous citadel of the Hierophant, a madman literally cloaked in shadow. The doctor used the telescopic functionality of his cybernetic eyes to peer into the madman's face, searching for any shred of humanity. Instead, Lena found a ghastly smile.

"I am so very happy to see you again, Dr Lena!" bellowed the Hierophant. The mysterious host sat on a throne, which itself was atop the neck of a giant, headless automaton; the magnificent metal man itself sat in its own gargantuan seat. "Its been far too long. How was your trip here?"

The doctor gestured to the guards at his flank. "Well-armed."

The madman let out an echoing laugh. "Haha! The epitome of droll, doctor! It fascinates me--"

"Can we get to the point, Silver Tear?" the doctor rudely interrupted. "I don't have the time for your posturing and villainous futzing about."

The doctor could feel the madman's glare. "Fine." The Hierophant jostled out of his throne and, with a wave of his arm, formed a stairs from free floating platforms.

The mad host stepped down into the light and became visible to the doctor for the first time: A well-sculpted human body, completely nude, with a horrifying, tendrilled robot head. The Hierophant's face undulated and coiled, never remaining still. There were no visible eyes or even mouth to smile. What did the doctor see earlier?

"You told me that my humanity could not be restored. That there was no way to lift my curse." The Hierophant stepped closer the doctor. "You were wrong. I can become human again."

Doctor Lena let the words settle into the room, then replied, "So-- what's the hold up? Be human."

The madman's metallic tendrils whipped widely, its version of a sneer. "Don't think we are at an impasse, Doctor Lena. Your unique ability to wipe anyone's memory of you, itself a curse, won't work on me." The Hierophant closed distance between him and his guest. "And while I cannot reprogram your mind like the rest of these clods..." Silver Tear grabbed the doctor by the throat and lifted his heavy cyborg body off the ground. "I can still crush your fucking neck!"

The doctor did not fight or wriggle, just hung suspended in the air by the madman's avarice. "So...what can I do for you?"

Silver Tear dropped Lena with a thud, the doctor's glass skull nearly hitting the ground. "Your "Soul-System." I need it--AND you-- to build me a clone for my human consciousness."

The doctor sat crisscross on the floor, his long black cloak tenting over his legs. "Ah! we went over this. Soul System cannot create a clone with an impeded soul." Lena rubbed his sore neck. "For whatever reason, it can produce clones based on the souls of Hitler, Pol Pot, and even Joel Silver. But not you. Or me..."

The doctor got up from the floor and peered his bionic eyes into the mass of swirling robotic worms. "And I don't know why. All my years of research, even with my enhancements, have not found a solution. All I can do is replace parts of my body, my brain, to slow the deterioration. There is no escape for me, Silver Tear. My body, my organs, my very cells, will forget me. Reject me. And let me die."

Suddenly, two bright globes appeared from the tangled, metal mess. "No, they won't." From the heaving coils of wires and cords, a jawline with a set of silver teeth appeared. "I have found the solution." The Hierophant smiled. "I know what impedes our souls! This curse will not hold any longer... We will live... as humans!"

Doctor Lena stood silent and reflected. The last time he met Silver Tear, before he became the dread Hierophant, was more than a decade ago. The doctor wondered what this monstruous being could have found that he didn't in all those years? And what would mean to live as a human?

"I know, Lena. You distrust me." His silver teeth shifted to one side. If he had skin on his face, the madman would be smirking. "But, you wouldn't have dragged that luscious Soul System with you if you didn't think... there was scintilla of hope."

Doctor Lena looked back at the metal briefcase with the large humanoid brain floating in solution. "You were right," the madman admitted. "You don't have time for futzing about. Neither do I." Silver Tear grabbed Lena by the shoulder. "Let us help each other, Lena.... Please."

The good doctor knew he could not trust the madman. But, he was going to die anyhow so- "Fine."

The Hierophant beamed with a smile and from his luminescent eyes. "Excellent! I have a lab waiting for you. What you need will be provided to you. For you. Whatever it is--"

"I get it." Lena spun around and grabbed his briefcase. "The lab?"

The Hierophant waved his hand and a familiar face was beckoned from the shadows. "Dr Walden! Please show our esteemed guest to Laboratory One."

Lena was not amused. "Zaffareno Walden? What, you couldn't find a sewer rat to do your bidding?"

Silver Tear made his return up the staircase into darkness, his back to the pettiness. "I needed a skilled expert, Lena. And who better than the man who taught you everything?"

"And who I surpassed." Lena scowled at his old, miserable teacher who left him to fend for himself. But, out of the corner of Walden's eye, Lena saw a small mercurial tear form. A slave to the Hierophant. Maybe that would be sufficient justice. "Lead the way... Zaffy."

An opulent state dinner in the White House ballroom was an invitation no one could refuse. As the music bobbed to the back room dealings of the political elite, two men stepped onto the dance floor. The studly fellow grabbed the nearest partner and swayed them against their will to the DJ's setlist. The other fellow, far less studly, grabbed drink after drink from the trays around him.

Many of the belt boys and girls stared dumbfounded: Who invited these assholes? The two strange men worked their way through the crowd, handshaking and jawboning into the circles upon circles of the powerful few. While their actions seemed unhinged and indecent at first, the two men found their way into these people's hearts. They left a lasting impression, one that would yield dividends in the future.

"What was it those boys were selling?" asked the Senator to his wife.

""Soul System Rejuvenation"..." replied the elegant lady, reading from their business card. ""Be human again!" oh, how clever!"

The studly man walked back to the limousine with armfuls of young talent, as the less studly one carried two cases of champagne. Their chauffeur opened the rear door to let the party in. As the less studly man entered the back, he said, "Thanks, Zaffo! Take us home, will you!!"

When the history of the Souls System Rejuvenation Incorporated is written, it will not include the seedy underworld operated a bio-mechanical humanoid with the power to brainwash the population. Nor will it include the unlicensed organ harvesting and scientific research of two men, one with a desire to be remembered forever, and another who could not stay in your short-term memory.

No, SSRI will be remembered for it ceaseless work to end human affliction, disease, and eventually death. It will gift humanity with true human life: free from impediment. Whatever that may be.