Nanobots, Murder, and Other Family Problems

“But the scope of the project isn’t the reason for this meeting. I brought you all here to let you know that I will not be doing this trip on my own,” Father pauses a moment to let the rush of excited whispers die out. “Indeed, I don’t think I would be capable of it all. I will be bringing your oldest siblings with me! By the time we leave, all of them will have received clouds of their own, and will have been training with them for months. Even your dear long-lost oldest brother, Noah, will be able to join us.” Dozens of my siblings turn around to look at me. I force an eager smile onto my face. “All of your older siblings’ abilities have been growing quickly, and they will be an indispensable part of this operation. They will travel with me, and together, we will do what?”

“Preserve life! End suffering! Elevate humanity!” The roar is almost deafening this time.

He talks some more, going over details for the places we’ll go and the things we’ll build. Meanwhile, I seethe with inner conflicts, trying not to let them show on my face. I want him in prison. But how can I do that when we’re going to do something like this? Leave millions without water and power because I hate him? Part of me wishes that I could just buy into the cult. That I didn’t know what I know about him. It would be so easy. Save the world with the old man instead of getting justice for mom. What he’s planning is good on an epic scale. This will save so many lives, and improve so many more. Forget that he killed her. Forget that he’s a murderous monster.

Breathe. Calm. Breathe. I can almost hear Mom’s voice.

What would she want me to do? Trade her life in, help save the world? She might have. She was good like that.

Dammit.

Look at him, listing out the benefits of abundant clean water for the people of Djibouti. That crooked smile on his face seems so sincere. I think he really believes his own hype.

Maybe he really is his own hype.

How do I condemn the world to live without all the good he can do? So many people lack basic necessities, and this institute and Father’s tech may really be the world’s best hope.

An hour ago, I felt like locking him away was justice. Now it just feels selfish.

“You OK, man?” Evan whispers. “You look sick.”

“I’m fine,” I quietly lie.

He gives me a worried look, but doesn’t say anything else. Father is still explaining the wells and solar farms we’re going to build in dozens of villages in rural Ethiopia.

Why can’t things be simple?