Chương 8: I’ll Tell You What to Think

Goblin Realm — Blackwood Head Office — 6 Months Before Prophesied Birth The machine dominated the center of the chamber. A seven-foot-tall cylindrical contraption that looked more like a mad scientist's refrigerator assembled from spare parts, than a highly technologically advanced machine. Loose wires and components hung like toxic fruit. Its heavy base seemed barely capable of supporting the weight above it, and Elios had long harbored doubts about its structural integrity.

He half expected it to explode or leak radiation through the crudely shaped door.

"I can't believe what strides we have made in the past year," Elios said to Mr. Blackwood.

"Once we were able to translate the schematics, the rest was a piece of cake. The machine is basically ready to go; I am just not entirely sure what it will do once we flip the power on." Elios commented, scratching his head.

"Well, there is only one way to find out now, isn't there?" Mordak asked, reaching for the switch. Elios watched wide-eyed as Mordak's sausage fingers moved in slow motion toward the button. His large frame did little to hide the upper middle-aged pooch of his stomach as he leaned forward.

"Sir!" Elios called out. He couldn't let him flip the switch.

"Don't." Mordak looked at him blankly, fingers inching closer.

"I thought you said it was ready to go?" Elios sighed as Mordak stopped mere fractions of an inch from the button.

"Technically, sir it is, but we have some… eh…" He pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"Some what, Elios? Some lunch heating up, somebody hiding inside?" Mordak snorted.

"Some what?" His mostly green pompadour hair fell into his eyes.

"Some last-minute adjustments to make… to… eh…" Elios searched for something Mordak wouldn't know was a lie.

"Adjustments to the wiring that need to be made, you know, loose connections to the fragmented defibrillation monitor, quite dangerous if it's not calibrated precisely." He ran a hand through his close-cut dark hair, small streaks of green at the temples. Mordak pulled his hand away as if the switch would burn him.

"Oh of course, quite right, quite right." He stepped back, placing his hands behind his back.

"We all know how tricky the fragmented defib… defrib-a-watcha-ma-call-it can be." Elios nodded.

"Exactly sir." Mordak wandered to a table and picked up a stray wire.

"Beeping out that ancient prophecy was genius. I am so glad I thought of it. Nothing like instilling fear of an unseen enemy to get the public to rally behind their savior.

"That's what they're calling me, you know? The savior of not only Falotopia, but the entire world." He grinned.

"I astound even myself with my awesomeness."

"Sir, I'm a little leery about sparking this up before we translate the remainder of the pages. We still don't know what happened. For all we know, it was building this machine that destroyed the civilization that created it," Elios said, his voice tight with apprehension.

"Elios, our enemy is a baby, a tiny tiny baby, an infant. How hard could it be to destroy a baby?" Mordak asked, eyebrows knitting together.

"Are you telling me that you won't turn that thing on to go after the baby?" Elios looked uncomfortable.

"No sir, I'm just saying we need to do a little more research first. We don't know what this machine will do. It may have nothing to do with the prophecy or help locate the mysterious child." He sighed.

"For all we know, it could simply be a way for those lab workers to heat up their lunch or do their laundry. We simply do not have enough information yet. We never actually translated the entire prophecy, just a couple of lines, so you have no idea who, what or even where this baby is. We don't even know if the word child is a correct translation."

"Are you saying you are smarter than me, Elios?" Mordak began, his face flushing an even deeper shade of orange.

"Because that's what it sounds like, Elios." He glared at him.

"It sounds like you don't trust in my wisdom, is that the case, Elios?" A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Elios blinked but didn't dare speak.

"Everyone always tells me how smart I am." Mordak took a step forward.

"I am, after all, the most smartest goblin to ever live." He pointed to his chest, stepping closer.

"And if I say this is the way to find the baby… if I say there is a baby…" He took two more steps.

"Then there is a baby, and this is how we find it." He stood mere inches from Elios's face.

"Sir, I would never question your intellect," Elios paused, seeing Mordak's confusion, "ah, smartness," he clarified. Elios stepped back and reached for a sheet of paper on his desk. He read aloud, "A child born of many, which is really only one, will piece back what was broken, a new era will have begun. Is not exactly straightforward. We're not even one hundred percent sure that it was translated properly, if you break it down it really makes no sense."

"It says right there in the first line, child and born. What is a child that has just been born, Elios?" Elios looked at him, his face expressionless.

"It's a baby, Elios." Elios nodded.

"Born of many, meaning there are lots of childs born at one time, so maybe there are many of these childs out there but this child…" He put his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels.

"It's going to fix something…" Mordak paused, seemingly contemplating his next words.

"So something must be broken." He looked over at the machine.

"And the prophecy says it will piece back what was broken. Piece back, Elios. That means it has to be taken apart first." Mordak nodded as if this were obvious.

"Once it puts itself back together, the new era begins. My era." He smirked.

"Even a Pet Rock engineer could figure that out." Elios stared at him, horrified and expressionless.

"So, I need to find the baby before it fixes anything. I need to take it apart so it can put itself back together the right way. Under my guidance. Then the new era begins. My era."

"But sir," Elios began.

"But nothing, Elios, just get it done. I know what I'm talking about even if you don't," Mordak growled. Elios watched as Mordak made his way out of the room. He lowered his eyes and nodded stiffly, retreating into silence. He looked back at the humming machine. Elios sighed as he remembered that fateful day six years ago. The Council had passed Mandate 4761, The Sovereign Continuity Act, appointing Mordak Blackwood as High Chancellor for Life.

Elios still remembered the language: "to ensure order, preserve vision, and eliminate bureaucratic inefficiencies." It had been voted through with applause, live coverage, and the requisite number of beeps flooding the public stream. Mordak had smiled humbly for the cameras and waved as if it had been a burden reluctantly accepted. The Council still met. Citizens still petitioned. But every measure passed or failed based solely on a single signature. Mordak's. The illusion of a democracy remained intact.

But everyone in the council chambers knew beyond a doubt: elections were over. Debate was theater. And Mordak ruled alone, his mandate sealed under the thinnest possible sheen of legality. All hail Mordak, the crowds cheered. Elios didn't cheer. He didn't smile or applaud. He knew the man behind the persona. He knew he had been the one to mastermind the chaos that led to his reelection in the first place. He knew more than most, more than he wanted to, more than he should.

He did have to admit though, devising a cure for a deadly pandemic that he created was genius. He remembered the labs where Mordak's team had engineered both the virus and the cure. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the notes headed for the incinerator, they were burnt into his soul. The sealed directives stamped with Mordak's official personal crest thrown in for good measure. All mention of Project, Everybody Needs a Friend and Mordak's connection to it, eradicated.

They were looking for a savior, and he had given them one. A carefully curated image glowing in the blue light of their screens: Mordak the Magnanimous, the Reluctant Healer, the Unifier of a wounded realm. All they saw was the televised moment he unveiled the cure, eyes gleaming with crocodile sincerity as he pledged "Hope for all, regardless of contribution." It was theater, every second of it, especially when he steamrolled the incumbent with conspiracy theories, accusations and outright lies.

Elios remembered watching from the balcony of his luxury apartment, watching the crowd erupt as Mordak dropped the mask of a politician and stepped fully into his role as savior. He wasn't Elios's savior. He was the destroyer of lives, the destroyer of people, the destroyer of families. Elios remembered looking over at his daughter's empty bed, longing for his wife, knowing he bore the brunt of the responsibility. What haunted him wasn't the lie. It was how much people needed it to be true.

They needed to believe someone was in control, someone brilliant, someone benevolent enough to save them from the world he had broken. That was when Elios understood. The people didn't just follow Mordak. They worshipped him. And Mordak knew it. He fed on it. He thrived on it. Elios exhaled, long and low, and turned back toward the humming machine. No matter how much he tried to distance himself with research, translation, or protocol, he was still doing Mordak's bidding.

At the end of the day it was still his blueprint. His hands, his choice. Or was it? Did he really have a choice anymore?