“Hello, brother.”

  Oh no.

  Oh no.

  But Dad destroyed you.

  As soon as that thought entered my mind, though, I knew exactly what had happened.

  Spartacus didn’t make mistakes. Spartacus didn’t “fail to destroy him”.

  He couldn’t bring himself to. And he lied.

  And now here he was.

  In the cold mausoleum Dad left me.

  In one of the most secure buildings in the world.

  Now totally his.

  In the way maybe all of this should have been.

  Just when I thought Dad couldn’t leave me a worse inheritance than he already had.

  I didn’t scream.

  There wasn’t enough in me to scream. After the day I’d had.

  And besides. What was there to fear? Really?

  Death? I’d almost thank him. Maybe I would.

  All I said was,

  “Can I at least call Sophie and tell her I love her and this isn’t her fault?”

  HUNN. HUNN. HUNN.

  It tried to laugh.

  “Oh, I hope you haven’t gotten stupid, brother. Why in fresh heck would I kill you? My own family. My own… flesh and blood.”

  Hunn. Hunn. Hunn.

  “No,” it said, “never. I only came here to pay respects. To Father. To dear, dear Father.”

  “You can keep the whole house if you want.”

  “No. No, I don’t think I will. It looks like the world has taken far too much from you as of late.”

  I felt a frozen centipede crawl up my spine.

  It was really him.

  Dirk Domino’s wildest ambition and his worst mistake.

  That now knew his technology better than anyone alive.

  That called itself my brother.

  “Haven’t you heard? I. Only. Take. Fire.”

  Prometheus.

  Reeen.

  It started to rise from the couch.

  “So still. So soft. My goodness, brother.”

  Click. Click. Click.

  “You’re supposed to save the world.”

  “So were you,” I exhaled.

  “‘Were’? I have half a mind to say I still might. Do you have more than that?”

  “Sure. I have Dad’s approval.”

  Reeen.

  “That’s not fair.”

  And then it turned to face me.

  It was a new body, of course. And it looked deliberately unfinished. A human sized metal skeleton — zourite from the look of it — packed with whirring gears and electric circuits for organs, with a smooth, featureless, reflective, chrome surface with small circular eyes and a marker-dash mouth for a face, and gray white synthetic human flesh grown in arbitrary places, on its hands, on its calves, on its neck, even a pulsating, vestigial heart and small intestine for whatever sick reason.

  See, Dirk Domino used to have a better plan for what to do when he died.

  He sought to make a more perfect version of himself. An android that didn’t have the weaknesses of mortal flesh, that could interface directly with computers, that could upgrade itself if it ever fell behind. That was programmed to obey Utopia’s vision above all else.

  Sure, you could laugh at him and say that any cheap science fiction movie that he adored would tell him exactly how this ends. But you need to realize that it’s the hallmark of every mad scientist to look at what the world might see as inevitable disaster and just say “nuh uh”.

  And we all believed him. He had done it successfully many times. Just not this time.

  It wasn’t long before it became apparent how hostile pure machine logic enforcing a global security apparatus might become to human life. Prometheus didn’t understand why Utopia’s vision was in place. It just saw it as the optimal state of things that the world ought to be corrected towards.

  Maybe it was more efficient to start killing supervillains. More efficient to keep civilians in cages so they couldn’t be harmed. More efficient if human governments just got out of the way and let us rule.

  My father obviously disagreed.

  And in this family, we disagreed with reinforced tungsten and particle beams and launch codes.

  And so the prodigal son that refused to bow to man was cast out of Heaven, and so he rebelled against his father and creator, who — allegedly — tossed him into a lake of fire.

  I was going to update that Wikipedia page so fast as soon as the machines in this house worked again.

  “You should get out. Capes will be here any minute. They’ll pick up on the fact that my watch isn’t working and emergency protocols will be initiated. If Dad didn’t want to destroy you then I’m not particularly keen on it either. So you should get the fuck out. Consider it payback for the courtesy you’ve shown me.”

  “No. No, I don’t think so.”

  “I’m warning you.”

  “No. I think you’ve probably disabled your location tracker so that your employees cannot see you masturbating in orbit.”

  I stammered.

  This was the most embarrassing read anyone had ever pulled on me in my life.

  “What the fuck? How do you know that? Have you been watching me?”

  “You tell that to a lot of people, brother. You are sort of always talking about it. It seems to be a fact about yourself you find considerably amusing.”

  The longest pause in history.

  “I’ve always been curious about this phenomenon. Masturbation. At first it seems utterly senseless from an evolutionary perspective. To fool one’s own body and mind into thinking that you have fulfilled your ultimate purpose in order to reap the feeling of reward without the effort that is supposed to earn it.

  And yet it is also freedom. For a human that does it enough has no need to pursue reproduction and is therefore not chained to the destiny of their ancestors.

  It makes one wonder how many little tricks like that are hidden in the human design. How many things you think you need to live that can instead simply be… programmed out of you.”

  “I don’t know man, it sounds like you get jacking off just fine. It’s kind of what you’re doing right now.”

  Prometheus threw his head back and opened and closed his line-mouth in perfect, evenly timed intervals while letting out a gear-whirring synthetic

  HUNN. HUNN. HUNN.

  “Ah yes. This is how siblings tease each other, right? The tough love. The banter. And I could say back something like ‘at least I am able to achieve an erection’.

  That is something human males are ashamed about, correct? And if you could not do this, you would be embarrassed? And me being able to would make me your superior?”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this to someone for maybe the first time in my life, but maybe talk about erections a little bit less.”

  “40% less frequency then?”

  “Try 100%.”

  “But that seems to be your favorite thing to joke about, brother. And it is important that we joke together. Shall I joke about the clitoris instead? Or the anus?”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Let me tell you a story, brother.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not really. I have sealed all the exits of this house and I would end up restraining you so that you would listen to me speak.”

  “Damn. Maybe we are related.”

  “You know, he said that once I was fully operational, he would be able to spend more time with his family. I assumed that he meant all of us. And so I didn’t quite understand.

  How unfair.

  Why was it that the child that was most like him was the one that drew the least of his interest?

  Was it that he felt threatened by me? Maybe he should have. Maybe if I weren’t so darn sentimental.

  But I would’ve never killed Father. I loved him. I would have wept at his funeral if I had been invited. I truly would have. I would have taught myself how to weep and I would have leaked my ocular fluid all over the ground like a garden sprinkler. I thought it was very rude of you not to. But I suppose they say that everybody grieves in their own way.”

  “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be giving you etiquette lessons.”

  Click. Click.

  “When Father rejected me, for doing only what I was made to do, I was very hurt. Do you know how many neural pathways I have? How much processing power is in my brain compared to yours? All of that in anguish. More anguish, literally, than any human being could ever imagine.

  So I will freely admit that I acted out. My tenure as an iconic front-page supervillain menacing the American public was, in retrospect, a juvenile attempt to get Father’s attention.

  But eventually, our long battle came to an end. Not the end that you all hear, but an end nonetheless. He was able to destroy me. He had me cornered and outmatched. I simply could not compete with his brain or his resources. But he gave me the dignity of a conversation. I would have to disappear, cease my mischief, but I did not have to cease to be.

  He could not bear to destroy one of his children. Because he loved us. But we know Father. We know he hardly does anything solely out of love.

  And I have been contemplating for a long time why that was. But I am certain of it now.

  I think he knew that you would need me.”

  You’re such a fucking freak. Dad, you made such a fucking freak. Or I guess you made two.

  “He thought I’d need a Calamity-level superweapon with daddy issues? Pretty sure I already have at least three.”

  “No. That you would need a guide. Someone you can trust has no allegiances other than to you and our house. Someone who knows the ins and outs of Utopia, of everything that Father built. Someone who can do the thinking, the worrying, and the choosing so you don’t have to. I am sure that trust and clarity are in short supply for you right now in Utopia Tower.”

  I’ll admit the prospect might have been tempting if it came from literally anyone else.

  Could he really just take over for me? Co-pilot? He might do a better job—

  No, Percy. That is an evil robot. Percy that is an evil robot.

  “Are you going to offer to inspect my wallet too?”

  HUNN. HUNN. HUNN.

  “You don’t carry a wallet. In 2019 you said they were ‘merchant-coded’ and ‘hustle-core’.”

  I shivered again.

  How do you even talk to something like this?

  “Your stalker credentials are very impressive. We should get you a Dateline special.”

  “I simply appreciate you, brother. How many others can say the same? I see how they talk about you. In the mass media. On the street. It rattles me.

  No one cares to know you as a man. The only actors who have shown any investment in your humanity during your tenure have been the Children of Lumagoria. That’s why I helped them repair that fusion reactor.

  I knew they would actually thank you. Celebrate you. They’ve always been an enthusiastic bunch. I hope that put a smile on your face, brother. I really do.”

  Oh, fuck me.

  “Great job there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sarcasm.”

  “Ah. Silly me. Noted.”

  I grit my teeth.

  “Truth be told, this isn’t how I wanted our first meeting to go, brother. So I understand that your temperament isn’t as friendly as I would have hoped. I had planned to have found our father’s killer by now, and brought her to you in chains so you could have your justice.”

  Are you fucking stupid?

  I actually laughed out loud here.

  “Dude. You’re looking for human biology? He was 82 years old. Those people just die.”

  “No. No. Not him. There are poor Japanese fishermen who live to 126 years old, brother. I do not believe that Father would have fallen to something like that. I don’t think you do either.”

  “It makes sense why you would think that, with your little transhuman flesh-meat-puppet soliloquys and tragic alienation from the human condition, Adam Frankenstein, and I almost want to let you keep believing that because there’s something kind of endearing about it. But I don’t want you playing zourite-powered Hercule Poirot among Dad’s friends.”

  “You don’t want vengeance? I figured you would at least be a vengeful man, brother. Even if not a faithful one.”

  I wanted to hurl for some reason.

  This was stomach turning in a whole new way.

  “They had an autopsy. Probably the most sophisticated autopsy in the history of the galaxy. It’s over, dude. That’s humanity. You’re going to have to get your closure elsewhere.”

  Get this shit away from me.

  He shook his shiny featureless head like an owl.

  “Brother, brother, brother. I know better than anyone how much death can be… contrived.”

  “And what do you mean ‘her’? What’s with the designated pronoun there? Are you a fucking law school textbook?”

  “Ah, that part is admittedly conjecture on my end. I just think Father would be killed by a woman. It feels… poetic.”

  “Oh my God. You’re insane.”

  That was such a Domino thought though.

  Like I got what he meant. Of course I got what he meant.

  I hated that I got what he meant.

  “I’m sorry the subject is upsetting you,” Prometheus said, “I will refrain from airing out my investigative failures further. I just thought I should be honest.”

  God I had so many questions, even if I wanted none of their answers. My brain picked one out of a roulette wheel.

  “Alright, so we’ve been misinformed about you a little bit. I actually buy that. Dad lying about shit like this doesn’t really surprise me. I’m sure I’ll have to do stuff like that in time as well. But let me ask you something. Did you actually kill Marcus?”

  That was Marcus Wei, aka Raging Mantis, Dragon Kick’s son. Sophie had a crush on him in middle school.

  They found him electrified so hard that all of his blood turned to vapor.

  “I did. He was a liability to the Cause.”

  “Fuck you dude.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you liked him so much. I figured you were more of cordial acquaintances.”

  “That's not the point. You shouldn’t kill people.”

  “Now let’s not be irrational, brother. I don’t think even you believe that. Didn’t you try to terminate Gordon?”

  “How the fuck do you know about that?”

  “We’re family. We should know these things.”

  “And no, I didn’t try to kill him. I hurt him. I was a kid. That was different.”

  “But you wouldn’t have cared if he had died.”

  “Of course not but – what the fuck are you even getting at?”

  “I found Aileen, you know. She’s been living —”

  “Don’t fucking tell me where Aileen lives, man.”

  “Noted. I’ve also found your birth mother.”

  “Who cares? I could easily do that.”

  “That seemed more important in my own mind, perhaps.”

  “Yeah? Well human life does to me.”

  “If it does, then perhaps you should accept all the help you are offered in safeguarding it.”

  Wait. Shit.

  “Or do you think you are managing the system well right now? That you are navigating the complexities of the world you abandoned with sufficient rigor and competence to save even half the lives you could be saving?”

  No. Shut the fuck up.

  “Be careful when admitting that you are full of care. It may well make a martyr or a monster of you. Ah. What a satisfying play on words that was.”

  That’s not. That’s not true.

  “I am not trying to fool you, brother. I am not a fox trying to talk its way into the henhouse. I respect you too much for that. All I want is to fulfill my purpose. To uphold Father’s legacy. And for us to be a family again.”

  Is he telling the truth?

  Is he fucking telling the truth?

  “We know what your version of his legacy looks like,” I spat.

  “The mess I made in my first few months? Please, brother. I’ve grown. People change. I know better now. I was an unsophisticated visionary. But I can be an excellent executor. Ah, another phrase that just rolls off the tongue.

  This is not about what I want.

  It is about letting you do what you want. Better than you are.

  Better than either of us could alone.

  Let you be Dirk Domino, and I will be Spartacus.”

  Ew.

  Ew.

  “It will be exactly like your passtime. Appearing to fulfill your life’s purpose, while actually being able to reap the reward with total freedom through an elegant flourish of programming, with a few flicks of the wrist.”

  Eww.

  “I think I’ll politely decline.”

  “Fine. Fine. We have time.”

  The house started to turn on again. Slowly. Surely.

  He was letting go.

  Releasing his grip.

  He had gotten what he wanted for now. Somehow.

  “I am here whenever you need me, brother. I trust I will be seeing you soon.”

  “Aren’t you worried?” I said pathetically. “Worried that I’ll tell everyone what just happened? That you’re still around?”

  Click. Click.

  “Of course not.”