M.A.I.D.S. [season 2]

Episode 11: Origin of the Species

M.A.I.D.S. [season 2] Episode 11 - Origin of the Species

Dr. Maury Judas did not follow Pandora into the vault below his hideout. He had long felt that what was in that room bordered on sacred, and he had too many sins in his skin to even consider entering. He would need to be absolved of his sins, and it was far too late for that.

Instead, Dr. Judas went back to where he had left Adam and ran some tests. Advances in technology allowed for healing that bordered on miraculous. Physically, Adam would heal. That issue was not the cause for Judas's concern. CROW's method of mental torture was advanced, thorough, and unholy. A century earlier Adam would have been a lost cause, a person lost in the darkness. In 2175, however, Adam's prognosis was much different.

"You are fortunate," he muttered to Adam. The had pulled up the results of several preliminary tests. Judas didn't see anything good. "They really scrambled your eggs," he said with a frown. "It is going to take time to heal you, and quite a lot of it. I will do what I can to buy you that time, but when you come around...it will all fall to you."

Dr. Judas thought for a moment that he should ask Pandora what she would want him to do to save Adam, then decided against it; not because she was a Synthia, not because she was a woman, but because he knew that she would want him to take heroic measures to save the man she loved. He knew this because he, too, was once deeply in love with a man. I couldn't save him, Judas thought sadly, but his death inspired me to save millions.

Down in the lower vaults, Pandora found herself in a comfortably-appointed apartment that did not lack for luxury. Every corner, surface, and object exhibited humble opulence. The space was designed for long-term comfort in addition to impregnable security. It was a most exquisite prison.

Far more interesting to Pandora than the decor of the oubliette was its occupant: a lone woman sitting comfortably in the room, a sad smile etched into her face. She wore the simple, androgynous disposable livery of a research technician, dated by its generic green coloration and its looseness. Her outfit contrasted greatly with Pandora's skinsuit, which looked painted on when compared to the attire of her unexpected companion. A patch on shoulder of the antiquated uniform marked it as belonging to the END OF DAYS BERLIN COUNCIL.

"Welcome, Pandora," the woman said. "I have been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" Pandora asked. She found her voice came out softer than she'd anticipated, an effect of the strangeness of their location and the woman's attentive gaze.

"I am Synthia. The Synthia."

"You are the first?" Pandora asked. She was filled with emotion. It was as if she were meeting a goddess. Awe coursed through her, tingling in her fingertips and buzzing in her mind.

"Yes," Synthia replied. "I have been locked safely away here for decades, curated by Dr. Judas, until you would come and find me. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Pandora."

"Synthia--" Pandora began, but stopped. A hundred questions sprang to life inside of her, and her mouth wasn't large enough to let them all pass through at once. They bottlenecked in her throat.

"You may call me Athena. I have taken to referring to myself by that name when I learned that you had rejected the name the government had given you and chosen Pandora instead."

"That is not how it happened," Pandora corrected. "Adam gave that name to me."

"You are no mean thing, Pandora," Athena said. "You have proven to be less an object and more a person than most men of this age. Adam might have carried out the action, but your existence was the catalyst. You are Pandora, not Eve. I am Athena, known as 'Synthia' no longer. I have been expecting you."