Jimmy was dumbfounded. He didn't believe that Crake was still alive. As far as he remembered, he had shot him. Days before he left the old Paradice Dome, Crake's body was already in a state beyond dead. It was dead AND rotting, horribly. So how could Crake stand before him now, just the way he had looked like before he was dead. Is it even Crake? Maybe it wasn't him, maybe it is a robot or a tangible hologram. Whatever he is, Jimmy wasn't sure, but he looked real, sounded real. Maybe he IS real, and everything Jimmy encountered since months before was a joke.
Crake (or whoever he is) noted Jimmy's anxiety and started tapping his foot on the ground. It was a habit Crake had. Soon, Crake (let's call him such for the moment) ended the silence and spoke.
"You'll be wanting answers. I could not give you all of them, but I could not deny you all of them either. You deserve to know, since you're part of it. This will be long. Come with me." said Crake. "Tim, you're dismissed. Take the numbers, give them tests." He waved his hand off, turning to his back. "Jim, you coming or not?"
Jimmy knew he had to comply, he can't be missing in on the info. Not after all that he had done.
They were in Crake's office. Like Jimmy's room, it looked exactly the same as the one in the previous Paradice Dome. Cluttered, large. Jimmy helped himself to a seat, knowing that if it was really Crake, he wouldn't mind. He didn't.
"So, you alive now?"
"Depends on how you describe alive. Being alive, in the sense of being physically present in the form God or whoever made us, well not really. Being alive, in the term of being possibly dead moments later; that also does not apply to me. There could also be a separate definition of death, but let's just rely on your perspective on it." Crake answered. He was grinning, the old grin Crake used to make when Jimmy asked him something which he knew Jimmy would ask. "I am alive, but I have been dead. I have been dead, but before that I was already dead. I occasionally left the Paradice Dome and let you handle things in the period of time wherein I had to conduct the preparations for myself."
"Weren't you with Oryx?" Jimmy cringed when he heard himself mention her name. It occurred to him how much he had missed her, how he would never again feel those eyes piercing against his soul, that dangerous, delightful feeling. Unless... "How come I knew nothing of this? I thought you were just over the pleeblands, having a drink or something like that."
"Oryx. Another answer comes. Not to the question you've asked. But something else you ought to know." Crake's sardonic grin twisted into a relieved smile. It annoyed Jimmy. "Oryx was never there at all. The Oryx you know, she never was, never existed. The young kid we saw at the porno-site? She was dead for over three years."
"How can that be?" Jimmy growled. Inside he shook, how can Oryx not be alive? He felt her warmth by his side. He spoke to her, heard her stories. She belonged to him, for not that long, but she was there.
"Oryx was a programmed clone." Crake mentioned peacefully. "I had her made for you as a gift. I programmed all her conversations for you, how she'd act, how she'd do things. She was supposed to be with you when I was gone, tell you what to do in case you messed up. I never knew she was defective. Therefore, she was eliminated..."
"You fucking killed her?" Jimmy felt the blood rise to his head. Normally, he wouldn't buy this if it came from anyone else. But it came from Crake. It came from his only best friend, it came from the guy who makes lies the truth. If Crake says shit tastes like chocolate, then it probably does. It was the thought of this that stopped Jimmy from giving Crake a punch. Whatever it was, he had the feeling that Crake told the truth.
"Not really. She was dead to begin with. Besides, I was the one who gave her life. Don't I have the right to take it too?" Crake continued. "Who told you to get too attached to her?"
"I'll ask the questions. Please explain to me clearly how YOU managed to be alive." Jimmy felt the anger in him subsiding, making way for his curiosity. It sucks not knowing much.
"Remember the time we were talking about immortality? About Cyrogenic preservation?"
"I was able to preserve myself, using another body vessel. By the time I arrived at Paradice Dome and had myself killed, not really killed, of course... more of discarded, I was already in my cell-state regrowth being for an awareness transplant. I was here already regaining my consciousness by the time you left. There were complications though, that occurred, but they were already taken cared of. Then, I had the men search for you. It took quite a while. Nevertheless, we found you, didn't we?" Crake asked, his left eyebrow arching upward, giving him a quizzical, amused look.
"How did you get all these people?"
Crake laughed. "Same as last time. They're all MaddAddam. I had them vaccinated, gave them the same ones you have. They were all tasked to stay here, to facilitate the building of the Paradice Dome community."
"Why?" Jimmy asked. This was the question that has been bothering him all the time. Why would Crake do this? Why was he a part of it? Why was the Paradice Project implemented? In his head, there was a voice, echoing, Why? Why? Why?
((-I know I'm not that good. I always have a difficulty in writing FanFiction for books. It's like I HAVE to write in the same style as the author, in which I fail. Horribly. I do hope, though, that you still find my story interesting or entertaining. It would really make me happy if you would review or comment. My story is getting sort of out-of-hand, weirdness is attacking it from all sides. I mean, Crake, reborn? Only a crazy idiot like me would make it like that. I wouldn't be updating as regularly as I did for the past few days. But I would.;)-))