Genocidal Organ Page #6

"Painful"?

Liar. I know the truth.

You people don't feel anything.

"It's my job, so I have no choice."

Since the dawn of the 19th century,

those words have unleashed so much

brutality from ordinary people

who "wouldn't hurt a fly."

"lt's my job" allowed the Nazis

to send the Jews to the gas chambers.

"It's my job" enabled East Germany's

border police to shoot escapees.

Jobs exist for the purpose

of numbing the human conscience.

You're a hard worker yourself.

You fly around the world causing

mass genocide, cool as a cucumber.

Well, look at that: we're birds of a feather.

Bullshit!

No, we're the same.

I'll confess:
all I do is chant a curse.

It doesn't feel like killing.

What about you?

When your brain is regulated for battle,

do you feel the proper relief and guilt

after shooting the kids gunning for you?

Let me tell you.

You're a flat line.

When emotionally optimized,

in the moment you kill someone,

your actions are reflexive,

but you're also perfectly calm.

I'll put it to you straight:

even though you've fought in real wars,

you, and probably your friends,

always feel like it's not enough.

You harden your hearts.

Or rather, you allow them to harden.

You let yourselves not care

when you take a life. A young life, at that.

In a way, that's far crueler

than just killing a child.

I'll tell you a secret: the grammar

of genocide affects the brain

in much the same way

your BEAR process does.

Inhibiting conscience, recalibrating

value judgments in a specific way.

You do it with technology, and I do it

with the ancient power of language.

What's wrong?

If the grammar of genocide were to reach

our brains, with our masking in place...

Yes, I think it would be

even more effective.

Want to try it and see?

Jaeger One.

What is it?

Something's on our tail.

Indus pursuers?

It's Chinese-made.

No idea whose chopper it is.

Seaweed, we've got--

Williams...

At least he's not dead.

Dammit!

Blue Boy. Blue Boy, come in!

Is that you, Jaeger?

I'm about 200 yards from you.

What's the sitrep?

Looks like the chopper got shot down.

A heliborne unit arrived right after.

We're exchanging fire with them

from cargo bay two.

The prisoners?

I don't know.

But everyone left in cargo bay one

is showing up as status: deceased.

And I got my left arm blown off

the second I tried to step outside.

Does it hurt?

Sure it hurts. I can't feel it,

but I'm aware of it.

It's no problem, sir.

I can't physically sense the pain.

Barry!

Sh*t! Clavis, they just got Nelson.

F***!

Masking?!

Be advised the enemy has sensory masking!

Yeah, I know.

We'll just have to keep firing

'til they're hamburger meat.

This is such sh*t!

Dammit...

Hi, sir.

How's it looking outside?

Can you wait a bit for the other one?

How is it outside? Are they...

I don't know.

--Yep, it's a foul for the defense.

--Stupid rule.

--Yep, it's a foul for the defense.

Yeah, too overprotective.

Alex talked about that.

Yeah. "Hell."

Maybe we'll end up like him someday.

Can you keep going?

I'll keep going-

It's my job.

Other than Williams and I,

the only survivors were Sean and Bob.

We were the first US Special Forces unit

to be defeated in a long time.

Most of the enemy corpses

were in pieces, too.

A week with the meat puzzles told us

that they'd been dead men in another sense.

They were all soldiers who'd been

reported as missing or killed in action

by the military contractor they worked for.

It was pretty much a given

that Eugene & Krupps was the culprit,

and it didn't take long to figure out

that one of their execs was behind it.

Namely, the Senate Majority Leader.

The Indus fundamentalist

bigwigs we captured

never made it to a holding cell,

let alone the Hague.

They skipped straight to the graveyard.

The sheaths that saved them

from dying in the crash

ended up being their coffins.

The ghost soldiers' objective

was to retrieve John Paul.

That was all.

This is Mouse Two.

I'll bring you back a gold medal, Seaweed.

I'll hold you to that, Mouse.

Someone on the ground

just locked on to us.

No way. They can see us?!

Cut us loose, now!

Don't be stupid.

The enemy's got our location!

--Just push the release button!

--That's crazy.

Missiles fired!

Hey, Clavis?

A priority interruption has been executed.

The Pod will be released after five seconds.

Two, one, mark.

Splashdown in five seconds. Two, one, mark.

Ten, eleven, twelve... Deploying propeller.

The Uncounted.

It's the same fake-ID technique

that Lucius showed off to me

while I was staring

death in the face back in Prague.

He told the truth.

John said it, too...

"Patterns in unorganized data."

Once I'd excluded all the IDs in valid use,

only the IDs with inconsistencies were left.

By sorting and tagging those,

I could see their traffic.

They were telling the truth.

The honest truth...

Destination reached.

The Pod will self-destruct in 30 seconds.

Passenger, please prepare to dive.

It still hurts to see people outside

living in such unbelievable poverty.

Don't trouble yourself

about them, Madam Paul.

I feel better hearing you say that.

Good night, Mugabe.

Good night, Madam.

Lucie...

What's this?

A genocide text editor.

You made it in time for once, Mr. Hit Man.

I've only just started sowing the seeds here.

That's an antique Browning.

No ID checker--

anyone can use it to kill anyone else.

Tonight's the first time

I've picked it up, actually.

I actively avoid guns.

Makes sense. After all, you've got

the power to slaughter whole hordes

without getting your hands dirty.

I just found it.

Brutality has lurked

in the human brain all along.

You didn't have to bring

this genocide language into it--

Our brains have always had the faculties

for killing, stealing, and raping.

Indeed. I'm getting ready

to kill you as we speak.

But if raping and pillaging

are acts born of our survival needs,

then logically speaking, sympathy,

love, and sacrificing oneself for others

were born of our evolutionary needs, too.

Yes. Our brains have several

competing emotional modules.

And among them are some

that are completely obsolete,

yet stubbornly remain with us.

Imagine that a drought hit,

back before we'd developed agriculture.

Our species learned that in that scenario,

community and cooperation

were more efficient

than betrayal and competition.

Adaptation for survival...

But now let's say that another drought hit,

and the community was larger

than the available food could sustain.

Now what? Must that

altruistic community perish?

Are you saying the grammar of genocide

was an adaptation to food scarcity?!

Yes. It's the artifact of a time when humans

couldn't control food production.

But...

Genocide is carried out,

the number of individuals drops,

and the food supply stabilizes.

Masking the conscience and

engendering a mood tolerant of genocide

actually gives the individual

a survival advantage.

Is that your reason for starting wars

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