The Troll by Brian Darr Page B

who he allowed in. Everyone would by
law be injected with Psi. Populations would be in control, crime
would not be tolerated. Only perfection was allowed. Once they
perfected weather control, they would wipe out whole cities to keep
the population contained and controlled. No one would know these
disasters came from Chicago and the world would forever be shaped by
what he decided was best.
    As
the sun began to rise, his impatience reached a new height and there
was only one person he could take out his anger on. He walked back to
Circular Prime and through the underground passages until he reached
what was once a parking garage, which had now been blocked off
without a way in or out, other than the tunnels that led to an
elevator to the bottom level.
    Chained
to a pillar in the middle of the parking structure was The Surfer,
who lay sprawled on the ground. As The Moderator approached, The
Surfer spent enough energy to tilt his head, but didn’t react
otherwise.
    “ Is
he dead?” The Surfer asked, expecting it to be the reason for
his visit.
    “ Not
yet, but it’s still early,” The Moderator said, his neck
twitching as he talked. “Probably hiding somewhere for the
night.”
    The
Surfer turned his head away, relieved that at the very least, Rainbow
was still intact. He could only hope The Guide and The Troll were
together and that all was going well between them.
    “ How
have you enjoyed your stay in Chicago?” The Moderator
asked, taunting him.
    “ With
the exception of my night in your hotel, I’ve slept on
concrete,” The Surfer said. “What’s the idea? You
don’t want The Troll to know what savages you are?”
    “ Oh,
he doesn’t believe we’re savages. He wants to join us. He
just might earn his way here.”
    The
Surfer suddenly sat up and stared blankly into his face. “What
did you do?” he asked.
    “ It’s
not what I did,” The Moderator said. “Iris picked this
guy. It turns out he’s a strong promoter of Psi and very
influential on-line. Mr. Troll practically begged me to live among
us. I felt sorry for him. I don’t see him going the distance
Surfer. I think he’ll opt out, and when he does, he’ll be
rewarded.”
    “ That
wasn’t part of the deal.”
    “ What
deal?” The Moderator asked. “We created a game. The Troll
can make whatever choice he wants. I removed Psi from his head as
agreed. I didn’t pick him for the journey. One of your people
did, and she chose him on the
angle that that the world is anti-Psi. The Troll can prove the notion
wrong, or not. He strongly believed in Psi from the moment we first
met. You were in the room.”
    “ You
presented yourself as the good guy,” The Surfer said. “You
flashed a nice hotel and gourmet food and The Troll believes that’s
the life you’ll give him.”
    “ Who
says it’s not?”
    “ Why
can’t you let him make a choice without trying to sway him? Why
can’t you present yourself as you really are? A murderous
dictator?”
    The
Moderator crouched down, his back against a pillar opposite The
Surfer. “Because I won’t give this world up, no matter
what you say or do. I beat eight billion people within moments.
Forget being one in a million. I alone, executed a plan that took
over the world.”
    “ You
killed people. They were people with families and friends and
dreams!”
    “ Is
that how you see it?” The Moderator asked. He looked up at the
wall and his eyelids fluttered. A screen appeared in the shadows and
it loaded a desktop, The Moderator’s eyes controlling the
browsing. He opened file after file until a long list of serial
numbers appeared.
    “ Each
number on this list represents every living being left on Earth,”
he said. The Surfer’s eyes darted to the overall count and saw
that not even a billion people remained. “These are your
precious people with their family, friends, hopes and dreams. You see personalities. I just see
a list of numbers.”
    The
cursor ran over the list and randomly clicked one.